Nothing Without You
by Lanie M
Summary: [Shounen ai, RuHana] Rukawa returns to Japan after 10 years and meets Sakuragi again. Will anything happen to the two of them? [Completed]
1. One

_Notes:  It's me again! ^_^ Second fic – unbelievable ne? hehe.. well for me it is.. can't believe I'm writing a second fic.. didn't think I would get this far.. ^_~_

_As I said in my ramblings in 'The Last Face I Want To See', it's a Ruhana again.. ~_~ Can't seem to think of plots for anything else.. _ *sigh*… but that's okay with me so yeah… LOL ^_~" Writing as Rukawa this time.. I find it easier to write as him, for some reason.. o_o don't' know why… but writing as Sakuragi and all the while making sure you're not sounding too OOC is much harder to me.. anyway, at least I've tried both and now I know ^.~ Hope I'll get reviews telling me which fic is better.. ^_^ would really like to know that, actually…_

_Better not talk so much and just let you guys read the fic!! ^.^_

_Enjoy~! Hope it's not too bad.. ^_^"_

One 

"That'll be 770 yen."

"Un."  I reply, placing the money in the driver's open palm.  "Arigatou gozaimasu."

I only realize now how long it's been since Japanese has bounced off my tongue this way.  As much as I hate to admit it, I miss this language more than I would have liked.

I step out of the taxi, pressing the door shut behind me and freezing at the piercingly familiar sight before my eyes.  

How long has it been?  Way too long.  I've been away from this for way too long.

It hasn't changed much.  The main building, the entrance gates – they all look the same as the broken memories I have of how they used to be.  It hasn't changed much.

'Shohoku High School' – the sign on the wall reads, beaming out to me with a new, extra layer of glaze.  

It's still the same old Shohoku.  I exhale deeply in what strikes me as relief.

Am I really that afraid of change?  I start wondering unknowingly.

How long has it been?  Ten years?  Nine?  I'm not sure.  All I know is that it's been way too long.

I hastily brush away the messy strands of hair falling over my eyes, then once again adjust the thin scarf wrapped around my neck.  

I don't remember autumn in America ever being this cold.  I shrug mentally.  It's probably just me.  I never paid attention to anything over there, how would I know?

Why am I here?  I think, trudging slowly through the school gates.  I shouldn't have come here.  I should just leave things in the past.

But yet this feels so right.  As if this is the only place where I truly belong.

It's strange how my life has turned out.  I never thought things would be this way.  I never thought things would ever get this … out of hand.

Why am I here?  When I get back, I'll have hell to pay.  I'm not supposed to be in Japan.

I thought I would be happy in America. I really did.  

But it was nothing more than a waste of time.

If I had stayed here, if I hadn't left all those years ago … maybe him and I …

I blink and shake my head instinctively to try and put these thoughts out of my mind.  Ten years of these disgraceful thoughts are more than enough.  I have to stop this pathetic, disgusting nonsense.  

Soon these thoughts will destroy me.  Soon they will break down all my walls.  Soon I will lose control.

His smooth, chiselled face still haunts me every night.  His high-pitched, laughing voice still rings in my ears every hour of every day.  And his eyes - those shining, copper-brown eyes so bright that they were almost as red as his hair.  

Am I going crazy?  I know I must be.  It's been ten years, yet I still yearn for him with more thirst and desperation each day.  I don't know why.  I hate myself for admitting it, but I … miss him.  And I don't know why.

Why can't I be normal?  It's the first time I've ever felt this way for anyone.  He's the only person who can make me feel this way.  

The first time I fall for someone and my life falls to ruins.  The first time someone takes my breath away and it just has to be … a guy.

Why can't I be normal?

Ten years.  That's three thousand, six hundred and fifty days.  Three thousand, six hundred and fifty days of life that revolves completely around thoughts and yearnings for him.  

How pathetic.

How stupid.

How … disgusting.

What is happening to me?

Wait till the psychiatrist hears about this, the sarcastic voice inside my head sneers.  Wait till I shut her up once and for all, she and all her crap about my problems coming from my parents' death when I was barely even a kid.  Wait till I put an end to all her theories by telling her this.  She would probably have a heart attack and lock me in a mental institution.  A self-destructive, homophobic homosexual.  The voice inside my head chokes out a forced laugh.

I look around me at the falling sakura trails on the frosty autumn breeze and stop in my footsteps, spellbound by memories, reminiscences, and emotions.

The first autumn in America was the hardest. That was when I first found out that there was no sakura in America.

Sakura.  Not only is it part of his name, but a symbol of every single thing about him.  The way it drifts unbounded along with the wind – a perfect representation of the blind determination he carried inside him, the infectious rebellion he passed along, the way every movement of his screamed out his desire to be free, to live unbounded, to fly high without reserve.  The beauty of sakura – the undying beauty like the beauty he possessed, though I don't know for certain what made him so beautiful.  Perhaps it was his eyes; his sooty, shining eyes lined with thick, matted eyelashes that cast pale shadows wherever he let his gaze fall, eyes that hypnotized me so many times in the past - a past of youth, spirit and dreams - eyes that brought out so much emotion in me, emotion that I thought I had thrown into the flames long ago.  Perhaps it was his hair.  That blazing blaring bright red hair that rebelled against all convention and tradition, that shouted out to me about the alternate life I could be living, about the different way of life that I could choose, about the way my life could be more than meaningless monotony and expressionlessness.  Or perhaps it was all these little things about him combined that cast this mystical spell on me, triggering inexplicable feelings deep inside my soul that I never thought I was capable of feeling.  

I don't know what he did to me.  

But now the only remainders I have of him in my life are these nostalgic, never ending memories replaying over and over again endlessly in my mind, like an old movie forever set on the 'Replay' mode.

I would give anything to have him next to me now.  Anything.

But I let that chance slip away from me long ago.

There was just something about him, this vague, hidden aura of weariness about him that struck chords somewhere deep within me, some kind of tired weakness buried deep inside his copper eyes. Something deep within him that made me feel like letting go of everything then and there, running towards him and taking him in my arms, protecting him from all that he was tired and afraid of, spending the rest of my life just being his shield against the storm, telling him that everything would be all right.  There was just something about him, something that I was convinced no one else knew of, something that made me yearn to protect him, to keep him safe, to stay by him forever.  Maybe this was the feeling the intoxicated me the most.  In fleeting moments where I caught glimpses of this weak weariness through the copper-brown depths of his eyes, I felt like he was the only thing that truly mattered.  But I didn't give it much thought then.  I put other priorities before these feelings I had for him and him only.  How stupid.    

It's funny, but I still feel this way.  I still feel as if he's the only thing that truly matters to me.  Now I feel this way stronger than ever before.  

Regrets, regrets, regrets.  Regrets are all that is left of me.  If only I could return to that place in time when he was standing before me, laughing and pointing with that high-pitched, mocking voice of his.  If only I had gathered up the strength to face the truth, to face him, to tell him that he was the only person I really wanted to be with.  That he was the only person who was capable of casting this type of mystical spell on me, this spell that actually brought out emotions and turmoil in the monotonous flatness of my meaningless life.  That he gave my world meaning.  That he was my meaning.  If only I had told him then.

But I didn't.  And now the time for that has passed me by.  Now I've lost him forever.  Now all I have left are the repeating echoes of what might have been in the empty, hollow depths of my mind.

God, I miss him.  I miss his smile, his childish grin that gave me the rare, unusual urge to smile myself.  I miss his voice, his shrill, sincere voice layered with every emotion that struck him at any certain moment.  I miss his eyes, those deep, brown depths that shimmered and shined like the brightest stars, lighting up the darkness of my life just as stars light up even the darkest of night skies.

It's funny how I chose basketball over him.  Why did I do that?  I don't even know.  And now when I look back on my choice, I feel the remorse seeping into my skin like a merciless virus relentlessly invading my body and mind.  

I wasted my whole life simply because I made one wrong choice.  One mistake.  It's unbelievable.  Given the right circumstances, it could even be laughable.

I thought that by choosing basketball I could forget him.  That by training and focusing on achieving my dreams in America I could forget about the abnormal desperation and yearning that never ceased to overwhelm me whenever the slightest thought of him cropped up in my mind.  But it wasn't to be that way.  Without him I couldn't do anything.  I couldn't bring myself to play basketball again.  I couldn't go on with life emotionlessly, just as I'd always done.

Basketball was my life.  It was my only love, my only dedication.  Until I met him.

It's funny, isn't it?  Pathetic really.  So disgracefully pathetic I just can't understand it.  

And to think that I've sacrificed and wasted my whole life for someone who probably never even gives me half a second of thought now.  To think I've devoted my whole life to someone who probably never even thought of me in the way I think of him.

He went around with clouds in his head.  True, his naivety could be part of what allured me, but it was stupid of me to gradually begin to ignore it.  Stupid of me to think that he would understand, that he would maybe object to my departure all those years ago.  Stupid of me to think that there could be something more than confusion or anger in his eyes and his words when he looked at me.  How hopelessly stupid of me. 

I've wasted my life.  All these lost opportunities, senseless assumptions, pointless imaginings … all this self-pity.  What a waste of time.  What a waste of life.

'I love you'.  The three small words that … could have saved me.  If I had said them to him then, maybe things would be different …

The silky sakura blossoms fall softly onto my face, covering my eyes for a brief moment.  I hesitate before raising my fingers to brush them away.

I would give anything to have him next to me now.  Anything.

A solitary tear trickles weightlessly down my cheek.  It's funny - I thought I had forgotten how to tear.

I take a deep breath before I finally open my eyes, drifting sakura blossoms still swirling around me.

The outline of a figure standing before me comes slowly into view.  A broad, masculine figure, a faint red light radiating softly from the dark glossiness of his hair …

I freeze immediately.

Could it be …?

I stare at the figure in shock, transfixed.

Am I really going crazy this time?  Now I'm even seeing things.

The figure's eyes suddenly turn towards me, radiating with a painfully familiar copper-brown warmth.

"Rukawa?" I hear an alarmed voice call out to me.

I blink.  And blink again. 

Is this a dream? I think, rooted to the spot.

"Sakuragi?" I blurt out in response.

_Notes: Compared to the next chapter, this chapter is really short _ Sorry about that.. I s'pose the first chapter only serves the purpose of introducing you to the setting and the narrator's perspective on life.. that is if you're writing in first person narrative – which is all I can do _" … but anyway…hope you can feel the regrets and etc… ^_~_


	2. Two

**Two**

There he is, standing right there before me.  

This has to be a dream.  This can't be real.

I've dreamed of this moment for years.  Yet now I have absolutely no idea how to act.

I remain silent, motionless, my feet rooted to their stiff position on the ground in questioning shock.  

This has to be a dream.  

"R-Rukawa!" he calls out with widened eyes, pacing towards me.  "Kami-sama – you are Rukawa!"

I take a closer look at him.  His hair is darker now - not the blazing blaring red that stands out in my memories of him - gelled neatly against his forehead, unlike the messy, careless, gel-less way some strands of his hair used to hang randomly over his eyes.  He's wearing a long sleeved shirt, the kind worn by office clerks, his collar closed in loosely by a dark, dull-coloured tie.  

He's changed.

I scoff at myself mentally.  What do you think, Rukawa, that he would stay the same – for ten years?  That his life would stop just like yours, that he would stay the same just for you?  It's not the way you think it is, you know.  Stop being so damn stupid.  The only person who hasn't changed is you.  The only person who's wasted so much time in life is you.  He's not the same as you are.  No one is.  You're the only person who's messed up their life this badly.  You're the only person who hasn't changed.

"It's been a long time!" Sakuragi exclaims enthusiastically.  "How have you been?"

Horrible, I think.  Absolutely terrible.  I've hit rock bottom.

"Fine," I manage to reply instead, the social skills I was forced to acquire during my laborious years in the US automatically taking their toll on me.  "I've been doing okay.  I just got here yesterday."

Sakuragi's eyes widen once again, as if fascinated by every single word of my reply.  I see he's acquired many social skills as well.  He's grown more mature.  

He's changed.

"Oh yes, I see … you came back from America, didn't you?" he asks quickly.  "It's been such a long time – I never expected to see you here!"

I nod in response and can hear myself stifling a polite laugh and a smile.  

It's as if the fights we had never happened, I think in confusion.  It's as if our past never existed.  It's as if the strong, confused hatred he showed me in those days was nothing but a figment of my imagination.  Now all I have left with him is this polite façade of a conversation, something that does nothing but conclude the fact that I was so stupid to have let that chance slip away all those years ago.  

Things aren't the same anymore.  We can't go back there.  I can't say the things I've always wanted to say to him anymore.  Things have changed.  Things are different now.  

I let the chance slip away, and now I can't do anything to get it back.

How stupid of me.

"We have a lot of catching up to do." I hear him say, interrupting my thoughts.  

I watch silently as he takes a seat on a bench nearby.  I sit down next to him, unsure of what to say to him next.

I know what I want to say.  It's just that I can't say it.

The time for that has irreversibly passed me by.

"So …" I begin, trying to prevent a nervous silence getting between us.  "how has your life been since Shohoku?"

Since Shohoku.  I almost laugh at myself.  What you want to say, the voice in my head corrects, is 'how has your life been since the day I left'?  

I don't know what I'm expecting to hear from him.  Deep inside I'm trying hard to come to terms with the fact that Sakuragi's life goes on perfectly well without me, but without him, mine falls to shreds.

Sakuragi laughs and leans forward with his elbows propped on his knees.

"My life…" 

I watch as he looks down and sighs deeply, that same familiar air of weariness surrounding him once again.

I recognize it straight away.  And at this moment in time, all I want to do is lean over and hold onto him as hard as I can, stroke the side of his face with my fingers, look into his eyes and tell him how much I love him, how much I've always loved him.  

But I know with more certainty than ever that I can't do that.

"You know how I was during high school …" he continues, looking up at me with a self-mocking smile pasted on his face.  "… never paid attention in class, did nothing except fool around and get into fights.  I should have studied though.  At least it would be a hell of a lot easier to get food on the table and money in my wallet."

He sighs again, then turns his eyes towards the ground.

If only I could hold him now.  If only I could protect him from the difficulties in life, take his hand in mine and get through his financial problems with him together.

But I can't do that.  

Then suddenly he perks up and turns towards me, his almond eyes lighting up with restored, perhaps feigned, energy.

"And yours, Rukawa-san?"

Rukawa-san.  Not kitsune, not even Rukawa anymore.  Now it's Rukawa-san.

"Your life in the US?" I hear him ask.  "How is it being a part of the NBA?"

It's gone.  The time where I could have spilled my heart to him – it's gone.  And now I know, with a frightening type of certainty, that there's nothing I can even try to do to get it back.

It's really as if the Shohoku days never existed.  As if the times where the thin line between love and hate was never challenged by him and I.

If only I had told him then.  If only I had never left.

He watches me expectantly, waiting for an answer.

I try dutifully to swallow the regrets and the nostalgic hurt in my voice.

"I didn't make it into the NBA."  I say.

The alarm that immediately springs up in his eyes surprises me.

"Nani?" Sakuragi sputters in disbelief.  "What do you mean?"

I stifle a polite laugh and look down, shaking my head wistfully.  He doesn't know, does he?  He doesn't know that I gave up basketball because of him.

"I gave up on basketball." I affirm.  "I couldn't do it anymore."

"But … but why?" Sakuragi protests loudly.

Because I couldn't help missing you so much I felt like dying whenever they threw a basketball into my hands.  Because I couldn't carry on without you, do'aho.    

"I just … couldn't." I mumble instead.  "There are lots of reasons."

How did I become like this?  Was I like this before I met him?  I don't know.

It seems like my life only truly began the day that I met him.

But yet he knows nothing of it.

I hate myself.  I hate myself for feeling this way, I hate myself for not admitting feeling this way.  I hate myself for letting that chance slip away – even if it might not have existed, I should have grabbed at it anyway.  I hate myself for the way my life has turned out.

"Demo, Rukawa-san…"

I look away while he begins to speak.  It's too much, all of this.  

I always thought that the day I would see him again would be the day I would be set free.  I would say everything that I'd always wanted to say, and he would either stand motionless in shock, then utter a soft 'yes', or spring back and shout out a loud, disgusted 'no' and run away in the other direction.  Both ways would make me perfectly happy.  At least I would be set free from the nostalgic fantasies that never cease to haunt me, the harsh regrets that never stop cutting through my skin leaving me wondering what would have become of us if I had told him the truth.  At least I would be certain, at least I would revert to reality once again.  At least that way, I could find a way to go on with life.

But it's not like that.  He's changed.  And that makes all the difference.

Now I realize that I'll never be set free.  Free from these sharp regrets, from this never-ending pain, away from these repeating memories replaying over and over again in my mind – never to stop or let go of my consciousness.

It's all too much for me to take.

"You were always the one with the talent, with the skills, with the miracles." I hear his deepened voice hanging in the autumn air.  "We all thought without a doubt that you were going to make it, to make the most of yourself.  But why … now …"

He trails off.  I don't reply.

I close my eyes as a vivid, emotionally charged memory begins to sweep over me.

The ball sprang off my hand with a swift flick of my wrist, my knees bending and anchoring me firmly back onto the ground with a soft thud.  I watched the spiralling ball intently, my gaze fixed on it as it created a perfect arc in the air, fell weightlessly towards the hoop, circled slowly around the rim a few times, and then, almost abruptly, was pulled down through the net with a swift swishing sound.

I brushed my hand across the persistent drops of perspiration trickling down my face and neck.  Panting strenuously, I turned around to check the time.

It's getting late, I thought to myself.  Best leave before the school closes.  

I never minded the fervent physical strain on my muscles during these late practice sessions alone.  I firmly believed it was worth it.  It was all worth it if I could get a place for training in America.  

Sometimes, though these times were rare and brief, I had doubts about going to America.  In the back of my mind I knew there was something much more important than basketball right here in Kanagawa, right here in Shohoku.  

But I forced myself not to think about it.  I forced myself not to admit it.

Just work harder, I stubbornly pushed myself on.  Work harder, go to America, and then everything will be all right.  Then you'll forget all this, you'll forget all about him – you'll be … normal.

That was my motivation then.  That was my motto in those moments.

Now when I think back to that time, how stupid I was.

I grasped the basketball tightly in my hands and prepared to take one last, concluding shot to wind up the day's practice.

"Oi!" someone yelled curtly behind me.

I brought the ball down and turned around, irritated at this abrupt intrusion.

Instantly, I was met with the fiery glare of none other than … do'aho.

My heart suddenly started pounding as loud as an African drum, but I went through all extreme measures to make sure it didn't show.  I didn't understand then.  I didn't understand why he was the only person who could make my heart pound this way.  I still don't understand.  But at that time, I didn't even want to understand.

I remained silent.  

In my high school days, everyone seemed to think I didn't talk because I was simply indifferent and insolent.  True, I didn't particularly care about anyone or anything, which only partly explains my lack of speech and communication.  The other explanation that no one else would have figured out is him.  I never knew what to say to him.  He just … took my breath away.  My heart would pound and my head would race and I would completely forget how I was supposed to be acting.  

For some reason it never registered on my face.  Maybe it was because my face muscles had stopped working long ago, due to the usual monotony and expressionlessness that had dominated my life in the dragging days before I met him.  Or perhaps it was my frantic fear of a more probable negative response from him if he found out what he did to me that automatically attached this cold façade, this stone mask, onto me to hide all these abnormal emotions away from his pure, naive eyes.  My feelings for him were always hidden, always unknown to him.  

Looking on my past, I regret this more than ever.  

"What are you doing here, eh?" he shouted at me, moving towards me with his eyebrows angled jaggedly inwards in infuriation.  "What are you practicing so hard for, baka kitsune??"

"Do'aho."  was the only retort I could manage before walking away towards the benches.

"Oi! Don't walk away from me while I'm talking to you!" he fumed furiously, running up behind me.

The more I faced him, the more I had to confront my feelings.  And I didn't want to do that.  I didn't want to face the feelings that disgusted me so much I wanted to lock myself up in my room forever, never to be seen again.  So I tried running away from the truth.  I tried running away from him whenever possible.

There were so many contradictions at that time.  Sometimes I wanted to run away from him, to cover myself up and never be seen by him again.  Sometimes I wanted to run up to him, take him in my arms, tell him what I felt for him and protect him from his fears forever, never letting go, no matter what.  Sometimes I wanted to kick him in the face, punch him so hard for making me feel all these alien emotions, for making my life so complicated, for turning me into someone so disgusting, so abnormal; for turning me into someone … gay.

I didn't look at him.  I just went on packing up my things on the bench, trying not to acknowledge his presence, trying to be the usual, cold Rukawa that I was in front of everyone else.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!  Answer my question – what are you practicing so hard for??"

I didn't know what he was trying to ask me.  I didn't know how to answer him.  I remained silent.

"Answer me!" he screeched.

I was more than a little shaken by him acting this way.  I didn't know how to react.  I couldn't figure out why he was so mad.

My eyes stayed averted from him, my thoughts raging in a state of total and utter helplessness.

"Oi!"

He shoved me forcefully, causing me to stagger back a few steps.  

I remained expressionless, staring back at him speechlessly.

"Tell me, damn kitsune!" he yelled at me once again, his face reddening in rage.  "Tell me!"

Tell you what? I shouted back at him deep inside me.  What do you want to know?  You don't want to know about me, do'aho.  There are too many things that you wouldn't want to know.

"Do you really hate this place so much?" he screamed, waving his arms frantically.

I honestly had no idea what he was trying to say to me.  It could have been just a figment of my imagination, but there was something else; something I didn't recognize, something subtle and vague radiating from his eyes.  I tried to ignore it and concentrate on dissecting the meaning behind these slashed words he was hurling at me for no apparent reason.

"Do you really hate it so much?" he continued.  "Do you really want to leave so badly?"

I watched the inner struggling registering on his face as his emotions and words poured out of him like an unstoppable waterfall that he was trying powerlessly to resist.

It shocked me, really.

I didn't understand what he was trying to say.

It was as if … he was in pain.  

"Why are you practicing so hard, eh?? Do you hate us all so much – do you want to leave so badly?  What's so good about America, huh?  What is your problem?  Why the hell are you practicing so hard??"

He didn't even make sense.  His words didn't even make sense.

But it didn't matter then.  I watched him, his emotions breaking him down, for reasons completely unknown to me.  

It was an entrancing sight.

"Why are you … why do you have to … why are you … leaving me??" he choked, looking down at the floor, frowning in confusion, as if he didn't have a clue why he was saying these things.

I froze, transfixed by these words.

Leave you?

If you ask me, I'll never leave, do'aho.

Right then and there, I could no longer suppress my desire to protect him, to save him from this weariness that would sweep over him at moments like this.  I couldn't hide it away any longer.

I walked towards him, my gaze unflinchingly fixed on his face, now scrunched up in a lost state of confusion, as if he didn't know what to do next.

His face turned towards me abruptly, his sooty brown eyes widening in alarm.

"W-What are you doing?" he stammered.

I didn't answer him.  I just continued moving towards him.

Could it be, do'aho?  Could what you're showing to me be …?

"Get away from me!" he shrieked, rage escaping from his voice once again.  "I hate you, do you hear me?? I hate you!! I hate you!!!"

I don't know how many times he repeated this phrase, his arms beating against me frantically.  But with each time, his shrill voice softened, his gaze fell lower on the floor, his arms weakened and moved slower and slower, until he was no longer hitting me more vigorously than ever, no longer screaming at me with words charged with venom – until he was in my arms, tears spilling abundantly from his eyes, his head on my shoulder, closer to me than ever before.

"I hate you…" I heard him whisper shakily, some sort of desperation trembling in his words.

"I don't hate you." I breathed.  "I don't hate you, do'aho."

"Rukawa-san?" a concerned voice shakes me back into reality.  "Daijoubu desu ka?"

I blink and look around me, startled.

I wish I could live in memories forever.

"Are you alright?" 

My vision clears instantly and this real, present form of Sakuragi materializes before my eyes.

"Are you okay, Rukawa-san?" he questions worriedly.  "Are you alright?"

This is reality, the harsh voice in my head chides.  Face it, Rukawa, this is reality.  When you had him in your arms, you never thought of telling him, did you?  And now you can't do that anymore.  No use regretting now.  You brought this on yourself.  It's all your fault.

"…Hai." I reply, nodding and rubbing my temples with my fingers in frustration.  "Gomen nasai, how rude of me…"

Sakuragi laughs softly, shaking his head in dismissal.

"No problem," he chuckles reassuringly.  "it's alright.  Just a bit worrying – you really drifted off there!"

I smile politely and force a soft chuckle back.

'I love you'.  I could have said it then.  I could have said to it you then.

If I had held you tighter, if I had told you this, then maybe we would have something – something special.

There are so many things I want to say to him.  So, so many things.

I still remember that hidden look in his eyes.  I still remember the way he broke down that night, all the things he said to me in those indescribable moments.

I shouldn't have left, do'aho.  I shouldn't have waited … for you to ask me to stay.

Was it just me?  Or was that … what I thought it was … in your eyes that night?

If only I could go back there and tell you.  If only I had let you know …

… that I'm nothing without you.

If only I could go back to that place in time where I could tell you that …

… I'm nothing without you, do'aho.

_Notes: Hence the title – Nothing Without You… though it will appear again at the ending… which I've already planned out in my mind… ^_^"_

_I hate change… I hate change in life, so that when you come back after a while you realize that you can't go back in time and do things that you wish you had done because the circumstances just aren't the same anymore… sad but that's the cruel reality of life… and I hope this fic kind of brings out the sadness in life and change… hope I made you think harder about it somehow… o_o Do continue…_


	3. Three

**Three**

"I'm sorry, Rukawa-san." Sakuragi's solemn voice cuts in.

I glance up at him instantly, lamentations still permeating my brain.

"What do you mean?" I say.

"I'm sorry, for getting so personal.  I shouldn't have asked … sumimasen …"

For a split second there, I hesitate.  

Personal?  It wasn't even a personal question.  Suddenly he's all polite and well mannered.  Suddenly we can't even carry out a conversation without saying sorry to each other every thirty seconds.  

It never was like this.  It never was this fake, this hypocritical, this untrue, this dishonest.  With us it was always straightforward, honest conversation.  Which probably explains the conflict everyone else saw between us.  But to me it was never like that, it was never conflict.  It was always the echoing of the residing truth that he was the most sincere person I had ever met, and would ever go on to meet in my life.

But now it isn't like that anymore.  He's changed.

"I'm sorry." he repeats, an uncharacteristically serious expression printed on his face.

"There's no need to be sorry," I reply, shaking my head instinctively.  "it's just … complicated."

It's dead simple, the cynical voice in my head retorts.  It's dead simple, Rukawa.  You fell for him, you ran away from him, you couldn't carry on without him, and then your messed up mind simply wouldn't let go – for 10 years, for Christ's sake – 10 years! It's dead simple.  You're messed up.  You've lost it.  You've gone crazy.  You're living for the past, and now that the past has chased up with you and spat right in your face, you're drowning in a puddle of your own self-pity.  And there's nothing you can do about it.  You brought this on yourself.  There's nothing you can do about it.

"Anyway…" I hear him continue.

An uneasy silence starts to creep over us.  Some desperate mechanism inside me springs up immediately to prevent this from happening as if it would cause consequences as disastrous as those of a volcanic eruption.

"Anyway…" I repeat automatically, stringing out my words, nostalgic emotions eating relentlessly away at my heart deep inside me.  "how about you, Sakuragi-san?  What have you been up to lately?"

Sakuragi-san.  I almost laugh out loud, knowing that I'll never have a chance to call him do'aho ever again, no matter how much I hold onto the notion of him being a naïve, loudspoken but always sincere fool, a do'aho … my do'aho.

He sighs loudly and heavily, clapping his hands together and wrapping his fingers around each other.

"Currently working as a clerk at an advertising firm," he begins, seemingly disinterested.  "minimum wage, mind you."

He chokes out a weary laugh and avoids my gaze.

"The worst job ever," he mutters glumly.  "Horrible staff.  Boring tasks.  I hate it.  But …" he sighs again at this point.  "… but that's the only job I can find."

I can see the same weariness and persistent dissatisfaction in his every movement.  

If only I could voice out my thoughts here and now.  

Come away with me, do'aho.  Come away with me.  We'll go somewhere, anywhere, somewhere where we can make it together, where we'll sort things out together.  Come away with me, and we'll live life together, we'll find happiness together.  Come away with me.

"It's hard …" he continues, shuffling on his seat.  "hard to earn a living here in Japan…"

He closes his eyes and sighs in exasperation. 

I would give anything if I could reach out and hold his hand in mine right now.  

But I can't do that.

"I wish I had studied then, in Shohoku." he whispers.  "Things would be … so much easier…"

I love you.  God, I love you.  I wish I had told you that then.  Then you wouldn't be so hopelessly tired, then I could protect you against all these horrible things in life.  I wish I had told you then.

I stare at him motionlessly and right then I realize that he hasn't changed completely.  He still talks with a hint of the way he used to – endlessly and repetitively.  He still carries that desperate, dwelling air of weariness around him – the fleeting, tired look on his face that makes me want to take him in my arms and hold him tight, to never let go.  His copper eyes still twinkle with that sincerity that makes him the most important, the most true, person on this earth – his thick, matted eyelashes still cast shadows upon the ground.  He hasn't lost his beauty, that inexplicable beauty that I simply can't explain.  The beauty of Sakura.  He still has that strong yet weak sakura spell shining from deep within him.

And I still love him.  I've always loved him.

I realize that I'll never stop loving him. That this time, I won't be able to turn away, to let go.  That this time, it won't go away.  I'll be loving him for the remainder of my pointless life, my meaningless days.  I'll always love him this way.

I feel like … like a knife is cutting away at my heart whenever I look at him, whenever I'm reminded of what could have been if I had done something all those years ago.

All of a sudden his deep brown eyes jerk open and he springs up, shaking his head energetically with a stiff smile stretched upon his face.

Why is he pretending?  He doesn't need to pretend in front of me.

"Oh god, just look at me…" he moans dramatically.  "how pathetic.  I must be boring you, gomen ne…I shouldn't be complaining like this."

I don't utter a word.  Once again, I don't know what to say.

"Ano… have you kept in touch with any of the guys for all this time?" he asks, his voice raised in feigned enthusiasm once again.

Why are you pretending?  I think.  But I keep the conversation going all the same.  

"Not surprisingly, I've seen a few training in America." I answer in a polite tone, nodding as if I'm actually getting involved in the conversation.  

Sakuragi's eyes widen in what appears as awed interest.

"Really?" he gushes excitedly.  "Sugoi wa! Who?"

I search my mind hastily for the answer to this question.  

"Maki-san – I saw him once at a function.  I think he's preparing to play in the Japan National team." I say a little hesitantly.  "Then there's Sendoh, who officially got into the NBA a few months ago … but I've forgotten which team he's in."

"Sugoi yo!" is Sakuragi's response.

"Though," I continue.  "I've forgotten to mention Fujima … who, if I haven't remembered wrongly, is coaching university basketball over there."

"Kami-sama…" he trails off in admiration.  "all these great things you guys have done with your lives, and I'm an underpaid office clerk."

He sneers at himself mockingly.

All these great things you guys have done with your lives, I think to myself, and I'm stuck here, in love with a guy I fell for 10 years ago and never thought to tell.  Here I am, a homophobic homosexual, listlessly lost in life, tortured by fantasies of what might have been.

Better to be an underpaid office clerk than a crazy, gay lunatic drowning in a boundless sea of regrets.  I scoff mentally.

"And you?" I ask him.  "Have you kept in touch with any of the guys?"

Sakuragi nods briefly and smiles.

"Youhei and I work at the same company," he tells me light-heartedly.  "we share the same apartment – you know, split the rent." 

He laughs once again, and I smile in response.

Oh.  I remember that Youhei guy.  Quite well too.  

I used to hate him so much that whenever I saw him I had to bite my lip until it bled before I could stop myself from tearing him into pieces.  He and Sakuragi used to be inseparable, they used to laugh and joke without a care in the world.  I was so desperately jealous.  Or maybe I was simply envious.  Maybe I just wanted to be him, to be Youhei, to be as close to that do'aho as he always was, effortlessly. 

"He proposed to Haruko-san a few months back," Sakuragi says with a grin.  "they're getting married soon … in a few months time."

What?  Haruko?  

Isn't that the girl who had the weird crush (or strange obsession) on me?  The girl that Sakuragi beat me up for? The girl that sparked up his hatred towards me in the first place?  The girl that started this whole thing off?

I blink in confusion.

Sakuragi seems to read the disorientation on my face and smiles knowingly.

"Surprising, huh?" he chuckles.  "After you left, Haruko became really quiet and indrawn.  She really missed you, you know.  Youhei was the one who brought the spirit out of her again.  It took them a while before they realized they had a thing for each other – went out for a few years, and then he proposed a few years after she finished university.  Of course me and Youhei didn't bother with further education, but she did – and Youhei waited.  And now they're getting married soon."

I blink again.

But wait – didn't Sakuragi have an obsession with her?  An obsession where he vented all his frustration of her obvious romantic disinterest in him entirely on me?  It all started off when he found out I was her supposed object of affection … 

Did he really just sit back and let his best friend go ahead and take the girl that he loved? 

But that would be so … contrary to Sakuragi's character.

What was his reason behind that then?

Suddenly the most obvious question for me in my position now strikes me like a rock thrown onto a sheet of glass.

Is he with anyone now?  Romantically, I mean.  Is he romantically involved with anyone at the moment?

Immediately I have the itching desire to know the answer to this question.

The persistent voice in my head jeers in amusement once again.  What difference would it make, Rukawa?  It spits.  Just what difference would it make?  You wouldn't stand a chance even if he were single and available. You just don't get it, do you?  You've lost your chance.  It's been ten years.  Nothing's the same anymore.  He probably doesn't even remember the things that happened between you and him.  Everything's changed.  Accept it.  Everything's changed except you.

"If you're wondering about me and Haruko…" Sakuragi's voice interrupts my thoughts.

Can he read my mind?  I think, my eyes upturned to meet his.  How does he know what I want to say?

"…She wasn't the one for me." he concludes firmly, staring down at the ground.

The one for me?  What does he mean by that?

"Have you found … the one for you yet?"

I'm surprised that I actually managed to muster the courage and the words to ask that.  Perhaps I just said it on impulse.

But it doesn't matter.  I wait expectantly yet impatiently for his answer.

I watch as he closes his eyes and inhales shakily.

"I … don't know." he breathes, his voice trembling slightly.  "I … don't … know …"

What is that supposed to mean?  My eyes are fixed on his frown, on his pained features.  I simply can't look away from him anymore.  

My thoughts begin to spiral madly with words that I can't say.

Can I hold you?  Can I hold you in my arms now, tell you that everything will be all right, tell you that I love you, that I just can't stop loving you?  That I need you to find myself again, that without you my life falls into shreds and I'm nothing but a hard shell without a soul, without spirit, without emotions … that without you I'm nothing at all?  Can I tell you that I love you, do'aho?  

And suddenly nothing exists except this whirling bundle of thoughts and that profoundly tired expression on the smoothness of his face.

I love you … more than you can ever know.  I love you, do'aho.  I wish you could know that … I love you more than anything, more than anyone on this earth.  I love you so, so much.  

But how much, you'll never know.

I can't tell the outer world apart from my inner world anymore.  Just looking at him now, and everything seems to blend into one.

I don't know what's real anymore.

And then all I can feel is the gentle warmth radiating from the copper brown depths of his eyes as he turns towards me.

"We had something … didn't we?" he says, some vague type of pleading gleaming softly in his eyes.

What?

I don't understand.

I don't know what's real anymore.

"I waited, you know." I hear him whisper faintly.  

All I know is that I'm losing myself in his eyes.

_Notes: o_o don't know what to say… hehe…_

_I'm not sure if this was a good chapter ending… was trying to think of something better but I'm already a bit stuck _ so this will just have to do…_~" _

_Right now I'm thinking about what sequence of events_ _are going to happen next… and I realize that this fic will be pretty short… umm… well short compared to my last one… ^_^"_

_Oh well…it's quality, not quantity, right? ^.~_

_Too bad… my fics have neither… ~.~_


	4. Four

**Four**

Is this real?  The same hidden glimmer in his eyes – just like the glimmer I thought I saw in him all those years ago when I had him in my arms.  Is this real?  

I don't move.  Neither does he.  Our gazes lock stiffly, and then it's as if everything outside loses all significance and meaning.

'I waited'.

I don't understand.

Can this be true …?

Could he possibly … feel the same way about me?

… For all this time?

'I waited'.

I don't understand.  What is this?  What is this in his eyes?

Does he mean … that he's been waiting for me?

That he still … feels the same way about me?

That he's … loved me back … all along?

It can't be true.  This can't be real.

… Can it…?

Is this a dream?

It doesn't matter if this is a dream.  This is paradise, and if it's nothing but a dream, I want to stay asleep forever.

I look at him looking at me.  Can what I'm thinking possibly be true?  All this time …

Are these all the answers to my questions?  

I can't think anymore.  I can feel logic and thought vanishing without a trace in the deep tenderness of his almond eyes.

What is he thinking now?  Could he be feeling the same way as I am at this moment?  Could he be … drowning in my eyes, just as the way I'm drowning in his?

Nothing makes sense anymore.  

But it doesn't matter.  If this is what senselessness is, then let things be senseless forever.

And then, all of a sudden, an abrupt, piercing ringing tone rips away the serenity surrounding us.

I watch Sakuragi turn away immediately, breaking the gaze.

It's as if something has been irreplaceably lost, and now all that remains is a tense, heavy silence, charged with something very much like sorrow.

What was that just now?  

I stop wondering and look down hastily to search for the source of this shrill, persistent ringing, finding it hard to move in this strange, heavily sorrowful atmosphere.

I reach into my pocket impatiently, pick up my cell phone - the obvious interruption - and hold it to my ear, squeezing it in frustration, as tightly as my hand will allow.

"Hello?" I grunt bluntly, turning away from the now silent Sakuragi in uneasy awkwardness.

"Rukawa!! Where the hell are you??" 

I hate this voice.  I've grown so fed up with it over the years.

"Nakamura-sama …" I mumble.

"Where the hell have you been??  Do you know how hard it was for me to arrange this appointment for you?? It could have gotten you back into the training you need!! And you stand me up without saying a word!!  You disappear without a trace again, just like that!! Now where the hell are you??"

At this point Sakuragi glimpses at me, slightly startled.  He's speaking so loudly that even Sakuragi can hear him.  I roll my eyes.

"I'm in Kanagawa." I reply flatly.

"KANAGAWA?" he shouts even louder and I hold the cell phone away from my ear in disapproval. "What are you talking about?? You're in Japan??"

"Un." I murmur expressionlessly.

"You're in … Japan?? Oh my god!! What the hell were you thinking?? How can you be so … irresponsible, Rukawa???"

Who the hell cares, I think.

"I don't want to keep going over this with you time and time again, Rukawa," he sighs impatiently in exhaustion, lowering his coarse voice.  "you're coming back here straight away.  I'll book you a flight back to New York tomorrow morning …"

He trails off hesitantly.

"No…" he changes his mind.  "I'll fly over to Japan and go to the airport to get you.  That way you won't just disappear as you're prone to doing."

I don't reply.

"Please, Rukawa," I hear him plead wearily. "please.  You can't just continue being like this.  You have responsibilities – you can't just run off like that.  Do you know how much trouble you've caused me-"

"I never asked you to continue being my manager." I say matter-of-factly.

"But you've got talent, Rukawa!" he explodes.  "Why are you wasting it away?? You can make something of yourself, you can be the best!! All you need to do is work hard, to stay put, to not be so damn irresponsible, to not just stand people up during important appointments time after time!!"

There he goes again, I groan mentally.  The 'you've got talent and all you need to do is stay in America' lecture.

"So get back here!" he shouts.  "I'll be there at the airport waiting for you tomorrow morning at 10 am.  Be there!!"

I hang up the phone and unconsciously let out a loud sigh.

What's next?  I think.  Do I really go back, back to America, back to my meaningless existence?

Now that I've seen him, now that I've felt his warmth again, how am I supposed to even try to carry on the way I used to?

What's next?  Where do I go from here?

"Who was that?" Sakuragi asks quietly.

"That was Nakamura Seiji – my long-term manager in the US." I reply.

"I see…" 

I don't look over at Sakuragi.  There are too many questions …

"Ano … Nakamura-san seems like he really cares about you, ne, Rukawa-san?"

I manage a brief nod.

"I don't understand why he doesn't just give up on me," I sigh.  "I've given up – but he won't.  Keeps booking appointments for me, keeps setting up training sessions.  It's as if he doesn't realize I haven't got the heart for it anymore."

There is a short silence as the wind continues to blow sakura blossoms higher and higher into the sky.

"Don't give up, Rukawa-san."  

I look over at Sakuragi, who is now staring hard at me, firm determination set in his eyes.

"Don't ever give up." 

I don't say a word.  

If only he knew that I would do anything he told me to.  Anything he asked me.  

Sakuragi looks away.

"Nakamura-sama's booked me a flight back tomorrow morning." I breathe.

Deep inside me, I'm hoping desperately for something.

'Don't go.  Stay with me.'  That's all you have to say, do'aho.  That's all you have to say, and I'll never leave you again, never.  That's all you have to say.

But all he does is glance up and turn towards me, his arm outstretched.

"Ganbaru yo!" he smiles encouragingly, holding my hand in his in a strong handshake.  "Never give up, Rukawa-san, you can do it!"

How stupid of me to hope.  

I force a smile back, brush my hair out of my eyes and stand up.

It was nothing but my imagination playing tricks on me.  All the hidden glimmers in his eyes, all the times where I thought there was something else behind his words and actions, all the times we almost crossed the thin line between love and hate – they were nothing but pathetic imaginings.  They were never real.  

He never loved me.  Not even a little.  I know now.  And to think that in moments I actually thought, I actually believed, that he might love me … how stupid.

'Stay with me.'  I almost laugh.  He would never say that.  He doesn't love me.  He never has.

And now I realize that it's true – no matter how much I need him, no matter how much I can't live without him, he'll never need me at all.  While my life falls apart without him, his just goes on without even a hint of difference.

"It was nice to see you again, Sakuragi-san," I stifle a wide smile.  "good luck with everything.  Give my regards to Youhei and Haruko."

Sakuragi grins and stands up beside me.

"I will, Rukawa-san." he says. "All the best."

"Take care of yourself," I choke.  "goodbye."

I watch him smile for what strikes me as the last time, and a bolt of sadness stabs me right in the gut.  I make sure it doesn't show.

"You too," I hear him reply.  "sayonara."

This is goodbye.  When I left ten years ago, we never got to say goodbye.  So this is goodbye.

I wave to him one last time, then walk away through the falling sakura trails in the direction of the main road without a backward glance.

Good, I think, trying not to scream out this pain tearing at every fibre of my being.  With my back facing him, he won't see me cry.

"Err… excuse me sir, but … where do you want to go?"

I can hardly breathe, let alone talk.

This feeling is … terrible.

I hate to cry.  I despise guys who cry.

Then why can't I stop crying?

"…Sir?" the driver repeats worriedly.  "Are … are you okay?"

Don't pity me, I scream out mentally.  Don't you dare pity me! I don't need your sympathy!

I don't deserve it.

"Sir?"

"Just get me out of here, okay??!!" I yell at the top of my voice, emotions bursting out of me uncontrollably.

The taxi veers forward immediately, and I bury my head in my hands.

All I can hear is my muffled sobbing and wheezing, and suddenly, I feel more ashamed of myself than ever before.

How can I cry like this?  This is disgusting … pathetic … disgraceful.

I hate myself.  I hate this … I hate this life.  I hate this world, this reality.

The only thing I don't hate is … him.

At the thought of him I hear myself wheezing even harder, tears screaming from my eyes irrepressibly.

Why can't I hate him?  I should hate him.  If I hated him, things would be so much easier.

I never knew that crying could hurt so much.

I hate this.  I hate myself.

What's next?  Where do I go from here?

All I can see is his face, his copper-brown eyes – fading away into the distance, away from my life forever.

"…Sir?" I hear the driver questioning once again.  

"I … don't … know …" I whisper, the sobs stuck in my throat choking me.

I don't know how I'm going to carry on.

I don't know where I'm to go from here.

You're the only one who can save me, do'aho.

Can you save me?

… Please?

_Notes: Another short chapter.. _ Plus I couldn't think of a way to end it, so yeah … what a crap fic writer I am . gomen gomen… *bows apologetically*_

_Can you imagine Rukawa crying? o_o I can't really… but who knows – he could have in his private moments, right?  He always seems like he's beating himself up inside over one thing or another… *thoughtful*_

_Does this fic suck?  *Sigh*... if it does, I'm sorry… -.- The ending's gonna be a happy one, yet again… ^_^" … I dunno – nowadays I'm more into happy endings… I've realized that life is already really sad as it is, so if we don't get happy endings in imaginings, then where can we ever get them?  _~" Weird reasoning… but still… _

_I'm actually an angst fan … but I can't write angst 'cause it just makes me too … sad … :*( I practically cry over really good Ruhana angst fics … I'm just too sentimental I guess… ^_~ Anyway… enough said…_


	5. Five

**Five**

How did I fall in love with him?  That's a good question.

When did my life become like this?  That's an even better question.

Because to me it seems as though my life only started the day I met him.

I'll never forget that day.  I'll never forget those days, those days when I had him there with me.  I'll never forget him.  Never.  I can't bring myself to forget him.

He fascinated me.  Even at first sight.  First I saw his flaming red hair, but then I turned away, dismissing it with indifference as my usual self.  But then his words, and his actions, and his sincere but loud-mouthed honesty, his naivety and childishness.  He was annoying, yes.  He gave me many bruises and troubles, but he was always sincere, he was always captivating.  He revived the emotions in me – I don't know how he did it, or why he did it, but he made me feel again, really feel emotions again.  First I felt anger, then I felt annoyance, and then it slowly turned into something indescribable, probably captivation and fascination – I couldn't take my eyes off him.  And over the years I know how much this has changed, deepened into something else, the four-letter word that has only struck me once in my life but has done nothing but drive me to despair.  

With him it was always straightforward truth.  Never hypocrisy, none of saying something and actually concealing something else – with him it was always straightforward, sincere truthfulness.  Perhaps it was his naivety, his childishness, but he managed to restore the little hope in me I had left, he managed to give me an ounce of faith in mankind again.  I've been with too many liars in my life.  But he was never a liar.  Never.  And the more I faced him and began to realize that then, in my high school years, the more he mesmerized me.  He really did cast a spell on me.  It's just that he was always blind to it.

I don't know if it was just me and my emotionlessness, my monotony and sarcasm – I don't know if that was why it never showed.  But now I wish I had just let go and shown him right at the beginning.  

What difference would it make?  I think to myself, staring out of my hotel window lost in thought.  He never felt anything for you.  It wouldn't make a difference if you told him then, 10 years ago, or now, 10 years later.  It doesn't make a difference at all.  He just doesn't love you.  It's all been nothing but your imagination, nothing but a waste of time.  You've wasted your life, Rukawa.  You really have.  Now it's time to let go, to go back to your screw-up of a career and misery of a life and carry on, carry on as if this never happened, as if Sakuragi was always nothing but a non-existent character in a manga series or something like that.  It's time to let go, to turn away, to carry on.  It's time for life to go on.

I sigh and close my eyes.

I can't let go.  God, please tell me what to do, because I don't think I can let go.

The voice in my head begins bickering once again.

Ha! God gave up on you centuries ago, you fool!  You're on your own now!  Pull yourself together, for Christ's sake!  Just look at yourself!

I grasp the glass of Scotch in my hand tightly and give it a brief shake, spilling most of its contents all over the glazed floorboards.  I stare at the bronze puddle motionlessly.

It's almost as if I've been living my whole life for him.  As if I've been living my whole life to love him.

I love him.   What does it matter if the Sakuragi I used to know and the Sakuragi now are almost two distinctly different people?  It doesn't matter to me.  To me, he's just Sakuragi, my do'aho.  He'll always be my do'aho.  Always.

I love him.  I love every single thing about him – his eyes, those beautiful copper-brown crystals, I love his voice – that coarse but shrill voice charged with enthusiasm and energy, I love his hair – that blazing blaring hair that screams out the persistence and determination he carries within him everywhere he goes.  I love him.  There are so many reasons why I love him.

What do I love most about him?  I love the way he makes me feel like a human being again.  I love the way he makes me feel again.  I love the way he looks at me and suddenly everything blends into one, until nothing exists except him and I, his gaze piercing into me with so many things that I don't understand.  I love the way he gives me the need to live on, to carry on with the tortures of life just so I can protect him against all his fears and his worries.  I love the way just by being the do'aho that he is, he makes me feel like there is a meaning to my life – and that is to spend my days with him, protecting him, being his pillar of strength and comfort.  I love all these things about him, perhaps many more too.  I love him too much to let go now.  I love him so, so much.

Is this why I hurt so much?  It's as if there are one million needles being twisted right in the centre of my heart, as if there are one million knives being stabbed into every joint of my limbs.  And yet all I can think of is him.  Only him.

This is … ridiculous.  10 years.  The stock market transforms completely in 10 years.  Shops lose business and shut down in 10 years.  Athletes and celebrities rise and slump in 10 years.  And here I am, still thinking of the first person I ever fell for, a guy I knew in the first grade of high school, still obsessing about the conversations and reactions we exchanged at the tender age of 15.

I'm 25 now, coming 26 in a few months.  And yet I'm still in love with someone I fell in love with when I was 15, my 'first crush', as they call it.  A crush.  Ha.  What's more, it had to be a guy. 

This is ridiculous, really.  Absolutely preposterous.

This is my life.

'Ganbaru, you can do it!'  His enthusiastic voice rings in my ears.

I shake my head and close my eyes, a heavy tear trickling subliminally down my cheek.

I can't do it.  Don't you understand?  I can't go on without you, I can't live without you.  You've made it impossible for me to survive without you, Sakuragi.  You've made it impossible for me to love anyone else.  You've made my life nothing but a never-ending nightmare without you.  You've made me nothing without you.

I need you, don't you understand?  I need you to keep trying, to stop myself from giving up.  I need you to live.  I need you to know who I am.

I was never sure or certain about anything in this life.  The only thing I've ever known is that I love him.  I don't know if I'm still sane, I'm not sure what I'm going to do next – the only thing I know for sure, without a single doubt in my mind, is that I love him more than anything, more than I would ever have dreamed was possible.  And somehow, to me that has always been enough.  Somehow, being sure of that one thing has always been enough for me.  

But now … to know that all the thoughts I've kept alive in me, all the conceptions that have driven me through the years – to know that they were all nothing but magnifications of my desperate hopes and naïve distortions of reality … to know that is simply more than I can take.

I honestly believed that there was a large possibility he felt the same way about me as I did him.  Sometimes his actions, his words, the expressions that fleeted across his face, would reveal the emotional turmoil churning so fervently inside him.  At least that was what I saw.  But now I know that those things I saw were never real.

It was just me all along.  Nothing but my own desires playing at me.

How stupid.  I feel so … utterly lost.

And now I have to go back to America, back to the same droning misery of a life, except that now, my only hope and motivation has been mercilessly removed from my world forever.

10 years ago when I left this place, I wasn't completely alone.  But now I'm more alone than ever.

10 years ago, he came to watch me leave.  But now … not a chance.

I place my glass shakily onto the table nearby and crouch down on the floor once again, my head buried deeply in my hands.

I stared at my teammates surrounding me, sincere sadness darkening their eyes, and for the second time in my life, I actually felt like there might really be a chance that all human warmth on earth had not yet been wiped out.

"Good luck, Rukawa," I heard Akagi say, patting me on the back firmly, his voice slightly choked. "bring glory to Japanese players in the NBA, ne?"

"All the best over there, kid." Mitsui told me, chuckling softly but looking away from me.

"Don't forget us, Rukawa."  Miyagi's spirited voice cut in, a stiff smile pasted on his face.

I nodded, looked down and remained silent.

Ayako was the next to speak.

"Come back to visit us, ne?" she said enthusiastically, her round eyes hiding the same thing everyone else was.

"Yeah, come back to Shohoku sometime!" Kogure added, hesitating before giving me a thumbs-up and winking at me encouragingly.  "Ganbatte over there!"

"Thankyou, minna." I manage to mumble.

To the left of me, I could hear someone's indistinct sobs in the background, followed by 'Don't cry's and 'It's okay's by Akagi, Mitsui, and Miyagi respectively. I glanced over in the direction of the sobbing, to be met with the sight of that girl known as Haruko, Akagi's younger sister, her blue eyes red and puffy from crying.

She bit her lip and advanced towards me.

"Rukawa-kun," she whispered shakily, her eyes flickering with emotion. "good luck over there." 

And with that she suddenly sprang up on her toes, enveloping me in a hug.  

I could feel the desperation screaming out in her every movement and her barely audible sobbing on my shoulder.  

Now, when I think back to this, I begin to realize the fact that at that time, what she felt for me was probably very similar to the pain I feel for Sakuragi now.  Yet I never really realized she existed, I never acknowledged her feelings for me.  Is love and life really this cruel?

At the sight of this everyone around me heaved a heavy sigh and looked down at the ground.

I patted Haruko several times on the shoulder, repeating the phrase 'Daijoubu' a few times.  She trembled, I could feel it.  And then she let go of me, stood fully on the ground again and breathed, "Goodbye.", her eyes still misty with tears.

I nodded her a reply and she turned away, staring disdainfully into the distance.

I glanced around me, searching for something that I yearned so desperately to see.

"Sakuragi didn't come." It was as if Kogure could read my mind.

"Un." I mumbled in response.

He didn't come.  He … didn't come.

I stared in the direction of the plane and the passengers already boarding it at that moment.  I realized that if Sakuragi didn't come, I would never see him again.

We were outside, standing about 30 feet from the plane.  It was a private plane, organized for all members of the Japan Youth Training Camp, Japan's 'athletic hope'.  People were boarding already.  I knew it was time.

He didn't come.  Even a fool would know to take that hint.  He didn't come.  He doesn't want me to stay.  He doesn't care if I leave.  He doesn't want me to stay.  

"Do you want me to tell Sakuragi anything, Rukawa?" Kogure asked.

Something in his eyes and his tone told me that he knew.  I didn't understand how he had become such a mind reader.  

I merely shook my head.

Deny everything, I told myself.  You can't let people know.  Deny everything.

"I guess this is goodbye, minna-san." I announced, louder and with more expression than usual.

All these people around me, the only people I could call my 'friends' at Shohoku High, they all smiled.

Then they enveloped me in hugs one by one.

It was strange.  I didn't know they would even bother with sending me off, let alone encouraging me and saying their goodbyes with hugs.  It was truly … strange.  But strange in a heart-warming kind of way.

Maybe it was strange because I haven't had friends before.  Maybe it's because I don't know what real friendship is.

They waved me off.  I trudged towards the plane as slowly as I could, still hoping for a miracle, hoping that … that he would come just in time.  

But there was still no sight of him.

I flopped into my seat on the plane and felt despair seeping sluggishly into every fibre of my being.  So I closed my eyes, trying as hard as I could to fall asleep before the plane took off.

He didn't come.

It didn't show but this realization shattered my heart into more than a million tiny pieces.  If he had come to say goodbye, if he had asked me to stay, I would.  I would do anything he asked me.  He only had to say the words, and I would stay.  

But he didn't even come.

He didn't care if I chose to stay or leave.  He never felt anything for me.

I leaned against the seat behind me and tried not to think about him.

The plane moved forward, increasing in speed slowly and laboriously.  I opened my eyes at the last few minutes, taking my last glimpse of Japan in what I knew would be a very long time.

Or maybe it was just my desperate hope for his appearance that made me open my eyes and look out the window.

I watched the people I had gotten to know best as Shohoku waving goodbye to me, smiles no longer pasted on their faces.  I waved back to the only people I could honestly call friends in all the years of my adolescence, and probably even my whole life.

And then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere came a blazing streak of red.

I watched, frozen and transfixed, in shock.

He was running along by my window side, running after the plane that was beginning to veer and preparing for take off.

He was running as fast as his legs would allow, wide-eyed, panicked, maybe even … desperate.

He was shouting something, something I couldn't hear above the loud whirring of the airplane about to launch.

And I watched as he emphasized two words, two words that I thought I could read so clearly from his lips: "I'll wait."

By the time I realized the implications of these two words, it was too late.

I was already suspended in mid-air, never to return to that place in time again.

Did he really say, "I'll wait", all those years ago?

I doubt it.  It was probably my most pathetic, most desperate imagining amongst all my other hopeless fantasies.  

The ironic thing is that it kept me going for all these years - the deep, certain knowledge that he was out there somewhere, waiting for me as he promised.

But it was never real.

I scoff out loud.  Nothing's real anymore.

Nothing is real in this world.

I can feel the Scotch taking its full toll on me as my vision begins to sway violently from side to side, then blurs until everything in the room merges into nothing but a few spirals of random colours, all closing in on me.

My hand sweeps the glass off the table and I fall to the floor with a resonant thud echoing in my ears.

I can hear the glass shattering right before me into a million little pieces, just as my life and my heart has been shattered deep inside my soul.

Nothing is real in this world.

Nothing.

_Notes: _~" …_

_Okay well on Deiah's site, she reviewed 'The Last Face I Want To See' and commented that my style was really angsty, even though the fic doesn't belong to the angst genre… I wasn't sure about that one… hehe… ^_^" but the last bit of this chapter sounds VERY angsty to me… -_-" *sweatdrop* It's not really supposed to be angst ne… but I guess I can't help it… when people are upset, it naturally becomes like that in my writing I suppose… anyway… o.O To be continued…_


	6. Six

**Six**

Some people say that if you love someone, you'll be happy just as long as they are, even if that means sacrificing the chance of being with them.

How can that be true?  

What kind of twisted logic is that?  It doesn't make sense.

If you love someone, you'll give everything you have to be with them.  Being with the person you love becomes the only way to please you, the only way that true happiness can be achieved in your life.  Being in their presence becomes the only way for you to be happy.

Sacrificing your own happiness for your loved one's is a completely different thing.  It has nothing to do with pleasing yourself, making yourself happy.  It's all about your love for the other person, the motivation behind this selfless sacrifice.  It's all about love, about doing anything to get your loved one to smile, giving yourself and your feelings up just so the person you love can live happily.  It has nothing to do with your own happiness.

Whoever said that must have been glorifying pain and suffering, assuring inexperienced youths out there that love is noble, that love is always perfect.  Whoever said that was either unaware of the truth behind the world and life, or was trying hopelessly to conceal this ugly truth from the more innocent generation – naïve dreamers not yet contaminated by the pain of the world's truths, by the permanently painful marks left by the stings of falling helplessly in love.  

Whoever said that was a fool.

How can I be happy if I'm not with you, do'aho?

I'll never be happy again.

I step out of the hotel entrance, tugging my practically empty bag of luggage behind me.

"To where are you going, sir?" a middle-aged bellboy offers his services politely, holding the door of a taxi standing by half open.

"The airport." I answer.

I watch him signal to the taxi driver hastily, then I climb into the taxi and nod him a brief thank you.

There is nothing left here to stay behind for.

I look out the window at the receding trees and whirling sakura blossoms as the taxi veers forward, seemingly in slow motion.

Come to think of it, there is nothing left on this world to stay behind for.

I've always hated people.  Always dishonest, always concealing the truth behind facades of fake expressions and tactful words.  Always untruthful.  And words – utterly useless.  Words are supposed to convey facts and meaning.  But with the hypocrisy of people, what is the use of words?  Words are nothing but a façade to conceal true feelings, true events.  Words are nothing more than endless lies.

People blame me for my lack of words – for my discovery of the truth: that human beings are incurable, despicable liars.  It's not that I care.  I couldn't care less about what people think of me.  I've never had any faith in people anyway.

People think I don't speak much because of my parents' death.  Psychiatrists repeatedly say I'm distant and aloof because of post-death trauma.

It's all rubbish.

I've seen the truth, and I know that words are unnecessary nothings that never serve their purpose.  So I avoid speaking as much as possible.  It has nothing to do with my parents' death.    

I remember nothing about my parents when they were alive, before they died in that train derailment.  I don't remember what kind of people they were like, I haven't a clue how they treated me as an only child.  I never knew them, or at least I don't remember knowing them.  So how could their deaths have affected me at all?  The psychiatrists just can't seem to understand that point, as simple and straightforward as it may be.

People say that your family is supposed to be your closest friend.  I never had a family.  I never had friends either.  I was destined to be alone from the very start, always alone.  Rukawa Kaede – always alone.

I gave up on humankind long ago.  I despised them all – all the patronizing hypocrites, all the egoistic intellectuals.  In my teenage years I decided to give no one respect, to ignore everyone, to sleep through practically any human activity in open defiance of humanity and the mass.

And then I found basketball.

It was my only pillar of strength and hope then.  In basketball, and only in basketball, I felt the trust in people, I felt at one with other individuals – all striving for a common goal, sure to keep their promises of effort simply because victory brought an addictive type of self-satisfaction that everyone yearned for so fervently.  I felt relied on, and for the first time I felt like I had someone to rely on as well.  Basketball was the only place I could gain faith in humanity again.  Basketball became the only cure for the incurable hypocritical disease of the world, a cure that only worked in certain fleeting but memorable moments.  Basketball became my life.

Perhaps I did find friends only through basketball.  Maybe that was one of the elements that gave basketball its significance in my life.  Kogure, Akagi, Mitsui, Miyagi, Ayako, even Haruko … the whole Shohoku team – they were probably the best friends I ever had throughout my childhood years.  Now I realize that they probably will remain my best and only friends for the rest of my empty shell of a life, since I haven't a clue how to bring myself to try and socialize anymore.

But what really gave basketball its utmost importance, now that I think about it, even though I may not have known it at the time, was the fact that through it, I found him.

I found him.  My light in the dark, my saviour, my meaning.  Through basketball, I found him.  I found emotions, I found solid faith in humankind, or at least in him.  I found things that I never dreamed existed.  I found … love.

I didn't know how it felt to love someone.  In fact, I didn't know how it felt to feel any amount of emotional turmoil for anyone, for that matter.  But he brought all that back to me, me who had just about given up on anything to do with human interaction.  He made me feel again.  It was as if my life only truly began with his entrance into my world.

From the very start, he acknowledged me as an enemy.  Those punches and kicks on the school balcony that fateful morning tore my skin apart.  And for the first time, I felt anger, I felt rage, I felt the persistent want for revenge penetrating my being.  And then I came in contact with his childish honesty.  His naïve sincerity.  It mesmerized me – the fact that he was the only person who hadn't been contaminated by the despicable hypocrisy of the world, who never seemed to give in to it even as time passed by.  He said what he thought; no concealment, no lies – just pure truth.  I couldn't understand it.  I found myself trying as hard as I could to understand him, but to no avail.

We had many fights.  They were usually over ridiculously trivial things, things that mattered so little that I don't even remember what we fought about.  I began to realize that when he struck me, when he lunged at me, his blows never hurt.  Not one bit.  Instead, an airy, tingling feeling was all that remained on the places where his skin had touched – a somewhat pleasant tingling feeling very much like what I had imagined it would feel to have his breath on my skin.  

It was only when I was left alone without him that his blows proceeded to serve their purpose, making my skin scorch like hot ash and burn like flames.

Maybe I only realized then that I felt something different for him, something that I didn't feel for any other person on the street.  Maybe it was then that I realized I was already … falling for him.

But I turned away from these feelings, afraid of the truth, in denial of the fact that I had fallen for … a guy.  I was afraid, desperately afraid.  

I was already homophobic then.

That hidden aura of weariness he revealed in rare moments only captivated me more.  It was only in those moments, moments when I saw through his loud-mouthed, worry-less mask and into that helplessly tired Sakuragi, that I truly forgot my fear of myself, that I put down my shame and realized that all I wanted to do was protect him, to hold him close and never let go … to be with him forever, to spend the rest of my life with him.

I already loved him this much then.

I don't understand love.  Maybe this is my punishment for falling in love with a guy, for being a homosexual.  Or maybe I was cursed from birth, doomed to be forever alone – parentless, friendless, loveless.  Whatever it is, I don't understand it.

Is it wrong to love him?  Is this why loving him has brought so many cracks in my life?

No.  It can't be wrong.  Because loving him was how my life started in the first place.

I don't know anymore.  I don't understand all this, all this shambles that is my life.

But it doesn't matter anymore.  Without him, nothing matters anymore.

Without him, nothing is real anymore.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Rukawa, are you here yet?"

"Un, Nakamura-sama."

"Alright.  Come to Gate 33, ne?"

"Hai."

"And Rukawa?"

"Yes?"

"Don't run away this time."

I don't answer and prepare to disconnect.

"…Rukawa?"

"What?"

"Just try to sound even a little happy, will you?"

I hang up the phone and look up from the ground.

I've always hated crowded places.  And now I'm surrounded by bustling businessmen, chatting away on their cell phones, excited families, laughing and joking without a care in the world.  How aggravating.

I walk through the airport entrance slowly, searching the space above me for any indication of where exactly 'Gate 33' is.  When I finally find some indication, I walk in that direction lifelessly, like a body without a soul.

A body without a soul.  That would be an understatement.

But does it matter?

That seems to be all I can think about now – that nothing matters.

What do I have to stay behind for?  Not in Japan, but on this world, in existence.  I have nothing to stay behind for, to live on for.

If I can't be with him, what am I living for?

The voice in my head scoffs at me loudly.

Suicidal now, are we?  It sneers.  Oh my.  Let's all pity Kae-chan, the pathetic, homophobic, homosexual, suicidal maniac.  Let's all pity him, then maybe everything will be alright again.

I hear the voice's mocking laughter echo through my ears.

Get a hold on yourself, for Christ's sake! It screams.  No one – I repeat, no one – will give you pity, so save it, you pathetic fag!  You brought this on yourself, so pull yourself together!

I blink and brush my hair out of my eyes.

Nothing matters, I tell myself.  Nothing matters, and nothing's real.  So it doesn't make a difference what you do from now on.

Pull yourself together.  Even though it's pointless, try to pull yourself together.

I step into the elevator and head for Gate 33.

I squint and stare absently at the figure signalling to me in the distance, a small, spectacled man dressed in a black jacket and white shirt, standing in the Gate 33 lounge.  Nakamura-sama.  I trudge towards him emotionlessly, my luggage trailing dutifully behind me.

"Rukawa!" he greets me, relief registering in his coarse voice.

I nod a disinterested response.

"We can board now."  he tells me, stuffing a glossy ticket into my hand and pointing towards the gate behind us.  

I nod again as he begins towards the gate.  I follow suit lifelessly.

There's nothing to stay behind for, I chant to myself mentally.  Nothing to stay behind for.  Nothing.

Yet it still feels as if one million carefully sharpened penknives are being twisted right in the centre of my bleeding heart.

There is something to stay behind for, a choked whisper echoes deep inside me.  Sakuragi.  Hanamichi.  Do'aho.  Whatever you want to call him.  He's here, still here, here in Japan.  Are you seriously just going to walk away, walk away from him again?

I shake my head unconsciously and this time a lower, sadder voice begins to reason deep within me.

He doesn't love you.  Just face it, he doesn't love you.  Whether you leave, whether you stay – it doesn't make a difference to him at all.  He just doesn't love you.  There's nothing you can do about it.  Nothing.  

Just go.  He doesn't want you to stay.  He doesn't love you.

Just go, Rukawa.

Just … go.

My gaze falls to the floor as countless images of him suddenly sweep over me, and yet again I am struck with the residing realization that I love him more than I ever thought I could love anyone, more than I ever thought anyone could love anyone else, for that matter.  That I'll love him just as he is, forever, no matter what person he becomes, no matter how much he grows out of that loud-mouthed, over-excited child that he used to be – that I'll always love him as the do'aho he always was to me … as my do'aho.  Always.

I love you, Sakuragi, I breathe mentally, hoping that somehow some type of magical force will just allow him to hear this, just this once, just for me, just as an exception.  I love you.  More than you will ever know, more than you ever should know, but I love you anyway.  Even if you don't love me, even if you'll never know about me, I still love you.  I'll always love you.  You'll always be the same old do'aho to me … my do'aho – the do'aho that I fell in love with ten years ago, and will continue to love for the rest of my days.  I love you, do'aho.  I love you.  I just want you to know that – that no matter how rough things get, no matter how bumpy the road of life gets at times, I just want you to know that I love you so, so much … that you're not useless, you're not a failure, that you've made my life worthwhile, that you've given my life a meaning just by being alive, that you're loved – that you've always been loved.  I love you.  I love you, do'aho, I'll always loved you.  I just want you to know that, even though this is goodbye, I just want you to know that.  Even though I won't ever see your face again, for you to know that I love you – that's more than enough.

I close my eyes and inhale shakily.

Goodbye, Sakuragi.  Goodbye … my do'aho.

I look up and prepare to continue advancing forward.

A hand suddenly latches onto my shoulder.

I freeze instantly.

Could it be …?

Please tell me that it's true…

…Sakuragi?

I spin around, my heart slamming uncontrollably against my chest …

…and automatically falling back into its heavy position deep below my gut.

"Excuse me, sir …" my eyes meet with those of a fretful-looking, curly-haired, pregnant woman.

I feel like I've just been stabbed.

"Sir …" the woman's shaky voice pleads.  "have you seen a little, chestnut-haired boy, wearing a blue baseball cap … about this height-?"

Her hands move up and down frantically, her eyes widened in panic and screaming out to me.

Yet I can't bring myself to react.

I try to swallow the drastic disappointment that has just struck me with the force of a lightning bolt.

"N-No."  I croak in broken syllables.  "Sorry."

A tear trickles down the woman's cheek and I watch as she sets off in another direction to continue her search for her missing son.

I stand transfixed.

My desires are playing at me once again.

The cynical voice in my head comes back to life.  He won't come, Rukawa, it chides.  Stop being so damn pathetic – just face it, he won't come!

I close my eyes and concentrate on placing one foot in front of the other once again; left, right, left, right … that's right, Rukawa, just go.  Just go.

Goodbye, I whisper mentally one last time.  Goodbye, do'aho …

Again I feel a grasp on my shoulder, but this time I don't turn around.

I can't let my desires get the best of me again, I think to myself.  I can't let this hurt strike me once again.

I can't hope anymore.  I can't let hope destroy what remains of my life anymore.

I ignore the apprehensive force pulling me back and concentrate on the stiff view of Nakamura-sama's back.

And then a voice laden with something very much like forlorn desperation, a voice that I recognize better than any other sound in this world, cuts through the air and flows straight through my ears.

"Wait!"

I stop in my tracks, paralyzed.

_Notes: Erm ... does that count as a cliffhanger? -_-"_

_I got a few reviews (thanks a million to all those who reviewed my work ^___^ *beams*I really appreciate it ne…) and some people said they hoped it was gonna be a happy ending… well, don't worry guys ^_~ 'cause it is ^.^_

_Okay I better shut up now… before I give the whole story away ^.~ hehe… thanks again for the reviews! *bows*_


	7. Seven

**Seven**

I blink.  And blink again. 

It can't be my imagination …

…Can it?

That voice, that smooth, gentle voice layered with sincere emotion …

…Sakuragi?

I turn around, the dream-like sight before me matching perfectly with the raging thoughts in my head, knocking me completely off my feet.

I find it unusually hard to breathe.

"I know …" he begins strenuously, his chest rising and falling with loud, erratic wheezing.

His voice is choked, shaky, stretched so it sounds a pitch higher than a whisper.  He's panting, his whole body moving up and down with every strained breath he sucks in, beats of sweat trickling slowly down his brow.  

But what strikes me the most are the tears … the countless tears streaming from his shining copper eyes, down from his face to his neck, gleaming like obscure constellations suspended in the sky.

He's … crying.

"I know I'm not supposed to be here …

"Hell, I don't even know why I'm here … I shouldn't be here … I know …"

His voice … he's choking down sobs, I can hear it, I can feel it.

"But … I … kitsune …"

I watch as he stifles a feigned laugh breathlessly, his eyebrows contracting in a pained expression very similar to that of someone on the very verge of bursting into tears.  He holds his trembling fingers up to his eyes, trying to put an end to the streams of tears falling down his cheeks, but to little success.

"I shouldn't be calling you kitsune … I shouldn't … I know …"

I can't bring myself to speak.  I can't bring myself to move.

"I don't know what's wrong with me … I'm sorry …

"10 years … such a damn long time … and I don't know why … there's something wrong with me …"

There's nothing wrong with you, Sakuragi.  There's nothing wrong with you.

It's as if I can't even open my mouth to try and speak.

I stand, motionless, emotionless, completely and powerlessly rooted to the spot.

"I still can't stop thinking about you, kitsune … I've never stopped thinking about you … I …"

He's speaking so fast, so … desperately.  His words … they aren't even making sense anymore.  

It's as if he's … in pain.

"Can we go back…?" 

And now, all I can hear is the raw emotion in his words.

"…Back to the time where I could call you kitsune … the time where I was nothing but a do'aho … your do'aho … because I … because that's all I've ever been in this life, the only person I've ever really been … your do'aho … yours and yours only …

"And I know this is absurd … I know I'm going crazy … 10 years of this insanity is more than enough … I'm losing my mind … I really am …

"But … I …

"I can't stop going back there … in my imagination, in my dreams … I keep wondering – did we have something then?  Please tell me … please tell me if it's just my imagination … because … because I could have sworn, with every heartbeat in me, that we had something then … and … I …

"I waited … I mean – I'm still waiting … I …

"I made the biggest mistake of my life when I didn't hold you back all those years ago … the biggest, stupidest mistake of my life … Because … to tell you the truth, kitsune…

"To tell you the truth, Rukawa …

"I … I can't live without you …

"I'm … nothing without you …

"To tell you the truth, I love you …

"So … can you please …

"Can you please stay? … Stay here with me, just this once?  Please …?

"Because … I love you … I love you, kitsune …"

All of the hustle and bustle around us, all the final flight calls, all the passengers standing in the queue behind us, all the random sounds and movements threatening to break our gaze – it all gets mixed up with the flickering, copper-brown pools of desperate pleading gleaming in his eyes, the tiny drops of sweat trickling from his forehead, the random, un-gelled strands of blaring red hair hanging over his eyes, the traces of crystal tears streaming down his skin, the pain and raw emotion radiating from his every syllable …

The realization that he …

… that he does love me after all.

And once again, I find myself drowning in his gaze.

I remain silent, tears brimming and gathering in my eyes.

Through my clouded vision, I can see the look of despair forming on Sakuragi's face as he registers my silence as nothing other than rejection.

"Say something …" he pleads, tears falling from his eyes more rapidly than ever, the sobs he tried to hide all escaping through his cracked voice.  "…anything?  Answer me … please?"

I watch as he casts a downward gaze, closing his eyes tightly and beginning to wheeze inaudibly with more suppressed sobs.

"Stupid … how stupid of me … I mean – what was I expecting?  Stupid … stupid of me… I'm sorry …"

I can feel the tears falling from the sides of my eyes.

"Do'aho." I say, a small smile forming on my lips.

He looks up instantly.

I can hear my soft sobbing clinging in the air.

"I'll do anything you ask me," I whisper, shedding tears of profound happiness for the first time in my life.  "Anything you say."

He looks at me speechlessly, his trembling pools of copper-brown suddenly lighting up with confused surprise and intense relief.

"I love you, Hana." I breathe between irrepressible sobs.

I move towards him.   I watch as a smile forms on his lips, and I take him in my arms, just as I've always yearned to do right from the first day I ever met him, and will yearn to do until the very day I die.

"Can you let me love you?" I utter softly in his ear.

He leans back, the beauty of his eyes striking mine with more force, more feeling, more … love - than ever before.

It feels like I've never seen the sky.

Is this what it feels like to see the beauty of oneself through the eyes of another?

Because if this is what it is, it's simply … wonderful.

He moves his fingers gently over my face and brushes my hair away from my eyes, now moist with tears.

"Rukawa … Kaede … I …"

I place a finger over his lips.

"I'll never leave you again.  I promise."

And the next thing I know is that he has his lips on mine, our tears merging into each other, our souls entwined, our hearts beating as one.

I can feel the soothing warmth inside him, the warmth he always gave me effortlessly in those days – still there, forever present inside him.  And I know that it's possible – that even if it were possible, I wouldn't mind, if I could vanish, right here, right now, in his kiss.

To feel loved like never before, by not just anyone, but by him, immediately sends each and every one of my regrets into the irreversible depths of non-existence.

And now I know that it was never wrong to love him, because I finally realize that's what I was put here on this earth for – to love him, to hold him, to protect him, to be with him, to melt in his embrace, just like this.

Is this fate?  Is everything fated?  At this moment in time, it seems so.

I am losing myself in this tenderness that is him, in the warmth of him pressing against me, in the mild scent and taste of him that is sending my head into a spin – in every sensation of being with him that overwhelms me with a happiness I've never felt before, the type of happiness that I've been living my whole life for, the kind of happiness that fills your heart to the brim until it overflows and spills out of you uncontrollably in none other than the form of tears.

And I know, with more certainty that ever, that we're meant to be together, we always were, and always will be.

I love you, Hana.  I know that no matter how much I try to explain this to you, it'll never be enough.  Because I love you … much more than I thought I was ever capable of loving, much more than I'll ever be capable of expressing in words.  I love you – can you understand that?  Can you understand just how much I love you?

He moves against me, his soft breathing echoing through my ears, his smooth skin touching mine, and at this moment, something tells me that he loves me too, that he loves me just as much as I love him.

I smile through the kiss.  I feel him smile back.

And once again, everything around us spirals into nothingness, and all that remains is him and I entwined.  The past, the future, the thoughts of the present – they all merge into the magical sensations of this moment, of this place in time, as if nothing else exists but here and now.

Can we stay like this forever?  Can we be trapped in this moment, can time stand still for eternity, or whatever remains of it?  Because … this is the closest to heaven that I'll ever be.

Let me live like this forever.  Let me live in your embrace forever.

A harsh tug on my arm rips me away from the heavenly warmth vibrating through every fibre of my being.

A sharp slap across my cheek stings me back into the cold imperfections of reality.

"RUKAWA KAEDE!!! What the HELL do you think you're doing??!!"

My vision clears to meet with an unusually red-faced Nakamura-sama, veins pulsing fervently on his forehead, thick eyebrows angled jaggedly inwards in rage.

"I will NOT allow it, do you hear me??!!"

He lunges forward and grabs my other arm, pulling me away before I realize what is happening and even begin to regain my composure.

"I will NOT allow my only nephew to engage in romantic associations with … with another MAN!!  I REFUSE to let my only nephew DRIVE HIMSELF TO DESPAIR!!!"

What?  No!  Why is this happening?  Why is he doing this?

Get off me!! You can't do this to me – not now, not ever!! Get off me!!

I try to scream, to shout out, but no words seem to escape my throat.

I turn back frantically, trying to wring my arm free from Nakamura-sama's merciless grasp, staring back at a shocked Sakuragi, rooted to the spot, fear written all over his face.

No!! Not when I've just found him … not when we finally have a chance to be together … 

No!!  

I open my mouth to persist, but hesitate when I hear Sakuragi's shaken voice behind me.

"Kitsune …" I hear him say, his voice trembling in shock.

And then his hand shoots out and latches onto mine.

"NO!!" he shouts out in panic, pulling me back.  "NO!!"

Nakamura-sama stops immediately, glances around us at the numerous open-mouthed witnesses of this abrupt, loud conflict, then turns around and glares at Sakuragi, rooting both of us to the spot with his nerve-racking silence.

Then he raises his hand and slaps Sakuragi's hand away from mine, the crisp slapping sound hanging reluctantly in the air.

"YOU stay OUT of this!!" he yells. "I will NOT allow you to ruin Rukawa's life … his career … his integrity … I WILL NOT ALLOW IT!! Do you hear me??  I will NOT allow people like YOU to take all this away from him!! Stay AWAY from him, do you hear me??  STAY AWAY from my nephew!!"

I watch as Sakuragi staggers back, a hurt, lost expression printed on his face.

This is about as much as I can take.  

Whoever said that uncles have the right to ruin their nephews' happiness, to take away the meanings of their lives?  So what if he's my uncle?  When my mother was alive, he never came to visit her.  He took me in after her death simply because of guilt.  Since when have I become his nephew?  Right from the start he insisted on me calling him Nakamura, a 'sama' irremovably attached to the end just to keep formal lines drawn, just to keep our relation hidden from the world.  Since when has he cared this much about my life, excluding my supposed basketball career?  

I shove Nakamura as forcefully as I can manage, breaking free and running over to Sakuragi, taking his hand gently in mine.

"YOU stay away from me!" I scream.

Nakamura stares at me, as if totally surprised and startled by my behaviour.

"Rukawa …" he starts.

I cut him off.

"SHUT UP!!" I yell, spitting out venom in my every syllable.  

"Rukawa …" he continues nevertheless, a panic-stricken look forming in his eyes.  "It's him, isn't it?  It's this filthy, sinful man who's been wrecking your life … destroying your career-"

"STOP IT!" I automatically resist.  "You don't understand, do you?"

At this point tears suddenly start falling from my eyes.

"You don't understand …"

I glance over at Sakuragi, who is looking back at me with an expression I can't read.

"He … he is my life …"

Nakamura-sama stands speechless, the harsh look on his face softening somewhat.

"He is my life … ojisan …" I whisper.  "I love him … don't you understand?  Can't you understand that?

"Can you understand love, ojisan? Can you understand what it feels like to love someone so much that it hurts, that every single bone in your body feels like it's been broken, just because you can't see that person's face?  Can you understand what it feels like to spend your whole life waiting for one moment, the moment where you can stand before the person you love so very much and tell them that you need them, that you can't live without them, that you've been waiting for them, that the only reason you're alive is just to wait for them to love you?  Can you understand what it feels like to be weighed down by regrets every second of every day for 10 years, living a life that revolves totally around memories of that person and endless fantasies of what might have been?  Can you understand what it feels like to love someone so much that you can't think of anything but them, that no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to forget them, the visions of them just won't go away, the pain you feel just because you can't take them in your arms just won't seem to disappear – for so long that you feel like you're going crazy, for so long that you're sure you're going out of your mind?  Can you understand that?"

I close my eyes and let my emotions wash over me, tears and words pouring out of me without much thought, just following the directions pointed out in the depths of my heart – voicing my every thought and every pain for the past 10 years for the first time, without hesitation.

"I love him … I've always loved him, right from the first time I saw him on the Shohoku rooftop … I can't seem to stop loving him … and somehow I know that I've been put here to love him … I love him so, so much … can you even try to understand that?

"And I love him … as the Sakuragi Hanamichi that I met 10 years ago – the childish, naïve, loud-mouthed Sakuragi Hanamichi who kept insisting he was a tensai … as the hopelessly tired Sakuragi Hanamichi that I was sure I saw in rare moments back then – the tired Sakuragi Hanamichi that made me yearn to hold him and spend the rest of my life protecting him … as the refined, subdued, matured Sakuragi Hanamichi that I see now, 10 years later – the Sakuragi Hanamichi that has so much to hide and so much to burden … I love him for all that he is, all that he was, it doesn't matter who he will become … because I love him … because to me he'll always be a do'aho, my do'aho … to me he'll always just be my do'aho … always …

"I love him … I love him as Sakuragi Hanamichi, and the fact that he's a guy just doesn't matter to me … because he's just Sakuragi Hanamichi … who just happens to be a guy … … the one I love … my do'aho … and I love him …

"And with him, I know who I am … with him, I know that I can feel, that I am a human being after all … with him, there is meaning in my life … he is my life … he completes me … and without him, I'm nothing at all … he is my life …

"Can you understand that?  I've lived my whole life just for him … just to find him again … and now that I've found him … what could possibly be more wonderful?

"I love him, ojisan …

"Can you understand that?"

I open my eyes to catch sight of Nakamura-sama turning slowly away from me.

_Notes:  I know I know… he made a speech… extremely uncharacteristic of Rukawa … I know o.O I think this fic is becoming more and more OOC… gomen gomen.. -_- But... I guess they do have a reason to be OOC, ne?  This is the good thing about writing a fic that takes place years later … because you can just say that the characters have changed over the years… hehe ^_~ How cheap of me -_-" But that's not the reason I wrote this fic ne… _~" Anyway…_

_By the way, I annoyed a few people with the cliffhanger ending of my last chapter… hahaha ^.^ *laughs loudly* I'm glad to see some people are following this ^.~_


	8. Eight

**Eight**

I stand motionless, a horrible sense of foreboding pulsing through my veins.

'Final Call for Flight 545 to New York', the shrill, mechanical voice echoes throughout the confines of the airport.

Nakamura-sama still has his back turned away from me, no response to my previous confessions and explanations.

An enormous wave of worry and fear begins to attack my consciousness.

All of a sudden I feel Sakuragi's grasp on my hand tightening, and somehow, I know that we'll find a way to fight whatever we're up against, together.

I watch as Sakuragi takes a step forward, his fingers brushing reassuringly against my palm.

"Nakamura-san …" he begins shakily.

Nakamura-sama raises a hand, signalling for him to stop.

And then, he heaves a heavy sigh.

"Go."

Sakuragi and I exchange glances of confused disbelief.

"Nakamura-san …" Sakuragi starts again.

Nakamura-sama turns back to face us now, features quivering unsteadily.

"Go." he repeats in a firm tone.  "Before I change my mind."

I step forward.

"Ojisan …" I breathe, tears of profound gratitude threatening to blur my vision once again.

He raises his hand, interrupting me.

"I'm sorry Rukawa …" I hear him say softly, his gaze moving lower on the ground.  "I only want what's best for you, you know …"

He closes his eyes, inhales deeply, then opens his eyes again, staring at me with some type of sincere determination.

"I promised your mother in the hospital, right before she died … I promised her I would take care of you, make sure you were happy … I always thought I was doing that well …

"I make such a bad brother … such a bad uncle …

"I thought that by permanently keeping you at a distance from me, from everyone else … I thought that by doing that, you would grow to become a strong man … a man never easily hurt … I was wrong … terribly wrong …

"I'm sorry I did such a bad job as an uncle … as your only family … Kaede …"

I shake my head and open my mouth to speak but he cuts me off once again.

"Go.  Go with this Sakuragi Hanamichi.  If he makes you as happy as you say you are because of him, then I can't bring myself to object, because … all I want is to see you happy, all imouto-chan would have wanted would be to see you happy …"

"Ojisan …" I whisper, profoundly moved by my uncle's words.

I never knew that he cared for me so much.  I never knew that this was the motivation behind all the times he pushed me relentlessly forward, all the times he urged and forced me to go to all the appointments with well-known American coaches and the like.  I never knew that this was the way he had been thinking all along.

He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, Kaede, hontou …"

He trails off and I watch speechlessly as he wipes a tear from his eye.

"Oh Christ …" he scoffs at himself.  "Christ, now even I'm crying…

"Scram! Get out of here, the both of you!" he gesticulates madly, trying to chase us away.

I find myself grinning as we pace back.

"Thankyou, ojisan," I say with a wide smile.  "thankyou."

"Oh, enough of this mush!" he interjects, though I can hear the forming of a returned smile through his voice.  "Go away! Get out of here!"

"Thankyou." I shout out one last time, before bolting for the exit, through the growing crowd of wide-eyed, gossiping passers-by – some of which have turned questionably blue, with Sakuragi's hand in mine.

I glance over at Sakuragi stolling beside me, and catch him gazing at me with the same indecipherable look that I can't read.

"What?!" I say in feigned irritation, suppressing the urge to grin.

"Baka kitsune." I hear him say quietly, in a thoughtful tone.

"Nan da yo?" I reply, clasping his hand tighter.

"You blew it with your uncle, an uncle who cares for you so much, just because of me.  Baka kitsune."

That expression.  It brings back so many memories of the past.

I keep silent, lost for words, utterly intoxicated.

"You gave up another chance to develop your basketball career, just because of me.  Stupid kitsune."

I turn to him.  Right now I truly feel like there is so much love in me that I could give a portion to everyone in this world and still have enough to last for eternity.  I never knew it was possible to love someone this much until I met him.

"I would give up anything for you, do'aho." I breathe.

The unreadable look in his eyes immediately subsides to give way to an expression akin to that of someone in a dazed trance.

I never knew I would ever be capable of casting this sort of spell on anyone.

The copper-brown depths of his eyes suddenly light up and a toothy grin breaks on his lips.

"You love me," he thinks out loud in bewilderment.  "you really do love me."

And before I can even react, he springs forward onto me, holding me in a hug with every ounce of energy in his body like an excited child.

"Aho!!" I screech breathlessly, although in actual fact, I enjoy this sweet closeness more than ever.  "Get off me! I can't breathe!!"

"Just a while longer …" he whispers without a budge.  "just a while longer …"

Oh God, I think to myself.  How will I ever survive one more day without this sweetness?

Abruptly Sakuragi lets go of me, stands up and looks me in the eye, a hypnotically serious expression fixed on his face.

"Kitsune …" he tells me.  "Ore mo … ai shiteru …"

I freeze, lost for words.

This sweetness … is this a dream?

And then he suddenly grabs my hand and pulls me away in a hurried run.

"N-Nani?" I stutter, still under the spell of that magical moment.  "W-What … where are you taking me??!  Hana?!"

"Sshh!" he urges.  "Just trust the tensai, ne?"

"Do'aho."  I respond.

It's just like the old times.

I gaze at the surreal sight of our fingers linked and follow his lead without one more word of resistance.

"Arigatou!" he thanks the driver and clampers out of the taxi, dragging me behind him hurriedly.

"Shohoku?"  I voice out my confusion.  "Hanamichi … why are we-"

"Just follow me, ne?" he cuts in while checking his watch.  "The tensai is always right!"

We run through the Shohoku gates, through a corridor that I recognize so well at the back of my mind - though now repainted in an unfamiliarly modern sky-blue colour, through newly glazed sliding doors and into the place that was always our shrine back then – the basketball hall.

I walk to the centre of the empty hall and look up and around us in awe.

Nothing's changed.  The same old floorboards, the same tatty walls and aging rims.  Nothing's changed.

Sakuragi walks towards me, his footsteps echoing throughout the reminiscent recesses of the old hall.

"Hanamichi," I murmur in astonishment.  "It-"

"I know," he interrupts, smiling, lost in thought.  "it hasn't changed."

I nod, my eyes still wandering around the familiarly friendly areas of this hall that I recognize so well.

"Kaede …"

I immediately move my gaze onto Sakuragi at the sound of my first name from his lips, for what seems to me as the first time.

"I haven't changed either … deep inside, I'm still the same Sakuragi that you knew in grade 1, 10 years ago … deep inside, I haven't changed …"

I place my hand on his cheek, looking straight into his eyes.

"I haven't either …" I whisper.  "I haven't either …"

I can't last a day without you, do you know that?  I'm nothing without you.

We've crossed the boundary where there is no longer any need for words.

"Sakuragi?! Rukawa?!  My word! – is that really you two??"

We jump back in unison and instantly stare in the direction of the vaguely familiar voice in alarm.

I squint at the figure advancing towards us, a spectacled figure with a familiar smile and air of understanding surrounding him.

"Ko-Kogure??" Sakuragi is the first to react.

Oh God.  It is Kogure.

I stand in open-mouthed shock.

"I was afraid none of you would remember!" Kogure exclaims anxiously.  "I'm so glad you could make it!!"

"You're late …" Sakuragi teases.  

Kogure laughs, a slightly nervous laugh that I recognize too.  He points at me with a smile.

"More surprises, ne?" he questions.  "How did you get Rukawa to come?  How did you find him?"

I blink, still too confused and shocked to react.

"Bumped into him the other day." Sakuragi remarks.  "Pulled him to this important occasion without explaining."

"Ahh… that's why he's looking so lost." Kogure chuckles.

He turns to me.

"A while after you left, we all gathered together, the good old Shohoku team, and we promised that we would come back here after 10 years to meet each other again.  We set a date, and a time, and so now, here we are!"

Sakuragi raises an eyebrow and looks down at his watch.

"Though none of them are here on time, as we can all see, eh, megane-kun?"

A hint of surprise at the bringing back of this old nickname registers on the now 27-year-old man's face, but I watch as Kogure grins in response, as if welcoming this warm nickname with more enthusiasm than ever.

"You haven't changed much, Rukawa." I hear Kogure say with a smile.

To me, that's a good thing.  A brilliant thing, to be exact.

 "Neither have you, Kogure-sempai," I reply, smiling back.  "though … a new hairstyle, I see?  And … new glasses?"

Kogure laughs again and scratches his head.  

"About the hairstyle," he begins, touching the locks of black hair falling below his ears nervously.  "I don't think it was intentional … just couldn't be bothered to cut it.  A bit too busy nowadays, I guess.

"And the glasses …" Kogure adjusts his glasses in the same way that he always used to.  "umm… what can I say?"

We all laugh.

Kogure points to Sakuragi now.

"He's changed though." he chuckles.  "Using gel now, are we?"

Sakuragi rolls his eyes.

"Everyone does!" he groans.  "Besides, if you don't do that in an office, you get weird looks …"

"Ahh…" Kogure nods sarcastically.  "I see…"

"Teme!" Sakuragi interjects.  "Are you mocking the tensai?"

Kogure turns to me and winks.

"Some things never change, ne?" he says.

I laugh.

"You're laughing a lot more ne, Rukawa?" Kogure comments.  "And talking more."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Social skills." I answer.  "Would you prefer monotone?" I remark flatly.

Kogure grins and shakes his head.

"This," he gestures to the two of us.  "this – is great."

I glance over at Sakuragi, who has a distant look on his face again.

"It's so nice to see you guys again …" he sighs.  "So nice …"

I reach out and pat him on the shoulder.

"Likewise," I respond truthfully.  "likewise."

Kogure only smiles, the hint of surprise still burning in his vaguely tired eyes.

"Otosan, okaasan, where are we going?" the high-pitched curiosity characteristic of a young child rings through the hall.

We immediately turn towards the exit, not sure of what to expect.

"Kyo-chan," a strong but feminine voice follows.  "wait and see, ne?"

"Otosan?" the young child persists.

"It's a surprise, Kyo-chan," a coarse masculine voice coaxes.  "come on now."

Three figures advance into the hall and slowly materialize before our eyes.

The figure on the left, a wavy-haired woman of reasonable height and build, left hand linked with that of a small child wearing a baseball cap, on the other side linking hands with the right hand of a man slightly taller than the woman, sunglasses covering his eyes and a familiar halo of curly-hair surrounding his head.  

The man and the woman look up to meet our bewildered stares.

"M-Miyagi??" Kogure manages to blurt out at the same time as the aforementioned man's "K-Kogure??"

"Sakuragi?? Rukawa??" Miyagi gushes.

I blink and try to compose myself.

"Miyagi-sempai, Ayako-sempai." I greet politely, still dazed.

"Kami-sama …" Ayako's voice cuts in, pointing to us in amazement.  "Kogure, Sakuragi, Rukawa … all here …"

I realize the lack of noise and glance over at Sakuragi.

He crouches down on level with the child, who is now looking intently at us in confusion.

"Konnichi wa." I hear him say.

I can't help but smile.

The small boy tugs on both parents' hands and steps back to hide behind Miyagi.

Ayako and Miyagi laugh.

"He's shy …" Ayako tells us.  "Kyo-chan, this is Sakuragi-san … say hello …"

The boy only edges further behind Miyagi, who removes his son's cap.

"Gomen …" he laughs.  "He's always like that in front of people he doesn't know."

"Hey there." Sakuragi whispers.  "What's your name?"

The boy stays silent for a while, then realizes all the expectant pairs of eyes on him and answers barely audibly, "Kyoichi."

"Kyoichi." Sakuragi repeats with a smile, ruffling the boy's hair before standing back up again.

"You … and Ayako-san …" he reverts to his shocked stuttering.

A tiny flush of red creeps onto Miyagi's cheeks before disappearing in formal haste.

"Hai."  he replies with a laugh.  "Unexpected?"

"You and Ayako-san …" Sakuragi thinks out loud.  "And a son too…"

Ayako giggles in embarrassment and brushes a stray strand of now only above-shoulder-length hair behind her ear.

"Yes, Sakuragi Hanamichi, yes …"

Sakuragi grins widely and nudges me.

"They got together," he exclaims.  "they got together!"

I nod briefly, both Kogure and I on the verge of sweatdropping.

He paces up to Miyagi and gives him a high five.

"Good on you, Ryocchin!" he congratulates, his voice laden with enthusiasm.

At first Miyagi looks surprised, as if not expecting this kind of reaction from Sakuragi.

Then a grin breaks on his face, a childish, cheesy grin – the kind of grin that only him and Sakuragi shared as pals in our Shohoku years – a grin that, by the looks of it, he hasn't had the joy of wearing for too many years.

And then we all burst into laughter, as if abandoning the compulsory social politeness that comes with adulthood and returning to the loud and natural informality that was our adolescence in the Shohoku team.

"Minna-san …" a low, bewildered voice cuts through our laughter.

We all turn towards the exit once again, as if on cue.

The outline of an incredibly stocky and tall figure comes into view.  I recognize the figure right away.

"Akagi-sempai …" Ayako voices out my thoughts.

He paces towards us, eyes widened in surprised delight, though sheltered behind large framed glasses.

"Gomen nasai," he apologizes, bowing slightly.  "I got caught in a traffic jam."

I notice the numerous wrinkles that have appeared on my ex-captain's skin.  He must be a busy man, I think.

"Akagi," Kogure says with a smile.  "how have you been?"

Akagi smiles back politely.

"Well …" he clears his throat.

I realize how the atmosphere around us has inevitably changed from that of the atmosphere we shared 10 years ago.  What a pity.  I suppose I am that afraid of change. 

And then, to my surprise and relief, a familiar remark cuts through the air.

"Gori!" Sakuragi calls out.

Everyone, including Akagi, stares at Sakuragi.  After all, we are supposed to be grown adults.  The same thought crosses everyone's mind.

Interrupting the tense silence, Miyagi lets out a loud laugh.

I watch as Kogure's expression softens into a grin, and listen to Ayako begin to join in with the relaxed laughter as well.

Then all of a sudden, Akagi raises his fist and brings it down onto Sakuragi's head in mock anger.

I smile.  

Maybe the atmosphere hasn't changed as much as I thought.

I glance over at Sakuragi, now laughing and conversing with the happily married couple, Miyagi and Ayako.

You're magic, Sakuragi, do you know that?  As long as you're around me, everything's okay.  As long as you're around me, I have nothing to fear.

"Starting without me?"

We all stare in the direction of the teasing voice.

I gape at the blond, spiky-haired man, immediately recognizing his features and the tone of his voice as …

"Mitsui-san?" Miyagi stammers, his mouth literally hanging open.

Miyagi's shock doesn't come as a surprise to me.  I blink to make sure I'm not just seeing things.

Mitsui walks hurriedly towards us, his silver rings, bracelets and necklaces all shining in the sunlight.  

He acknowledges our bewildered silence and frowns.

"What??!" he mutters, the familiar straight-forwardness still present in his voice.

Kogure is the first to break out of his dazed trance.

"Mitsui…" he laughs nervously. "don't be offended ne…"

Mitsui blinks and then smiles an easygoing smile.

"Iya," he shakes his head in dismissal.  "daijoubu, it's nothing …I'm used to it…"

"Then do you mind if we ask you …" Akagi cuts in hesitantly.

Mitsui shakes his head again.

"Of course not, go ahead!"

Sakuragi immediately springs out of his astonished silence.

"What have you done with your hair??" he gushes.  "And what's up with all this jewellery-"

Sakuragi proceeds to prod at Mitsui's accessories and everyone sweatdrops.

"Baka!" Akagi scolds under his breath, pulling him away by the collar, just like old times.  "Don't be rude!"

Miyagi and Mitsui both sweatdrop and Kogure continues to laugh nervously.

"Demo, Mitsui-sempai …" Ayako wonders aloud, still unable to remove her stare from Mitsui's trendy, bronze-coloured hair.  "such a drastic change ne …"

Mitsui only laughs, fiddling with the chain around his neck.

"I'm a rock star."  he explains, a familiarly arrogant aura surrounding him.

Everyone blinks, utterly clueless.

Mitsui sighs in irritation.

"Haven't you heard?" he moans.  "You know – Atarashii?"

Akagi and I remain speechless.

Kogure scratches his head.

"Ano…" he says, stifling an embarrassed smile.  "I'm not one for keeping up with the trend… gomen …"

Mitsui grunts in disappointment.

"Oh!" I hear Miyagi announce over-enthusiastically.

Mitsui turns to Miyagi, eyes lighting up.

"Arashi, ne?" Miyagi continues.  "I've heard of them!  They're good, I heard … I never knew you were a part of that group, Mitsui-san!  Sugoi!"

Mitsui buries his head in his hands.

"He said Atarashii!!" Sakuragi hisses.

Miyagi blinks.

"He did?" 

Sakuragi throws his hands up dramatically and nods.

"Oh." is Miyagi's only response.

"Come on, Micchy," Sakuragi nudges Mitsui, who still has his head in his hands.  "cheer up, stop sulking!"

"Yeah, come on!" Akagi joins in.  "We have a lot of catching up to do!"

I nod a brief response and catch Sakuragi winking at me.

A quick grin plays on my lips.

_Notes: wah.. o_o such a long chapter.._

_I didn't intend for this chapter to turn out so long @_@ *****sighs*… oh well *shrugs*.._

_I'm not sure if I'll be able to finish this fic… -_- School's starting the day after tomorrow and I don't think I'll have time to… *sniff sniff* I hope I will be able to do it though… I really hope I finish it in time .._

_About the reunion, sorry if I've done any of the Shohoku guys injustice :P I quite like the idea of Miyagi and Ayako together.. ^_^ hehe.. and I was thinking about what jobs the charas would most likely end up in… and I figured that Mitsui would somehow become a rock star ^_~ so there.. kekeke…_

_I decided to put the Shohoku guys into this fic… after all, I don't want the fic to lose its SD touch, ne?  ^.~ some people will know what I'm talking about… anyway, I thought it would be cute if they met again ^.^ *grins*_

_Still more about the reunion to come ;P *winks*_

_By the way, this fic won't turn out to be as short as I thought it would be… _~"_


	9. Nine

**Nine**

"First of all," Kogure announces.  "what are you guys doing with your lives?"

Everyone, including me, smiles.  I stand beside Sakuragi.

"As I said," Mitsui starts off, joking sarcasm evident in his voice.  "I'm part of a band, I'm the lead singer, actually, of Atarashii."

He stares at Miyagi at this point.

"A-tar-a-shii." he presses on with an edge to his voice.  "Not Arashi, A-tar-a-shii."

Miyagi casts a downward glance and Ayako laughs.

"Err…" Kogure hesitates, then takes a deep breath.  "anyway, the rest of you?"

"I've been studying law," Akagi tells us with a proud smile.  "preparing to be an official judge."

A suitable job, I catch myself thinking. 

"Miyagi?" Kogure asks.

Miyagi looks up from the ground and brightens up.

"Image consultant." he answers with a nod.

"Eh?" Sakuragi unconsciously wonders out loud.

Miyagi grins.

"For once I can be the one to criticize people about their height." 

We all grin back.

"I'm a writer," Kogure explains.  "currently writing my third book.  Demo … my books don't get very good reviews."

He sighs.  I give him a pat on the shoulder as encouragement.

He looks up and laughs.

"I've read your book," Akagi comments, moving his glasses higher up his nose.  "it was good, especially the first one. Keep up the good work.  Never give up ne."

Kogure smiles.

"Ganbatte!" Miyagi and Ayako cheer in unison.

"Thanks." he replies, nodding.

Kogure grins and turns to me now.

"You, Rukawa?" he questions.  "Bet you'd have beaten all records in the NBA now …"

"I watched out for you on the news, Rukawa," Akagi adds.

"Me too, kid." Mitsui chuckles.

"We've been cheering for you!" Ayako says, leaning on Miyagi.  

"We even told Kyo-chan about you, ne?"  Miyagi responds, patting the little boy on the head once again.

Kyoichi nods slowly and silently and I stifle a weak smile at the child.

"I never made it into the NBA." I mumble.

"Eh?" I hear Akagi's reply.

An uneasy silence creeps over us.

They had high hopes for me, I know.  But I never did keep up with anyone's hopes.

I stare down at the floor.

"I gave up on basketball." I say.

"But why?"  Ayako's worried voice cuts through the air.

I don't know how to answer that question.

Does it matter anymore?  Sakuragi's here with me now, and that's all that matters.  Basketball proved to be nothing but a hindrance to me, the thing that brought me blindly away from what I should have stayed with.  It doesn't matter anymore.

"I decided that it wasn't a privilege for me anymore." I reply.

I look up and around at the baffled individuals surrounding me.

"You gave up?" Mitsui repeats, his eyes disbelieving.  "You … gave up?"

I nod.

"On basketball?"  Kogure's voice trembles slightly.

I stand emotionless.

"Really, Rukawa?" Miyagi presses on.

"Un." I confirm.

"It's not like you to give up." Akagi remarks hesitantly.

I shrug, trying to ease the atmosphere a bit, in vain.

"Damn …" Miyagi whispers to himself.

Suddenly, no one knows what to say anymore.

It isn't that much of a pity, is it?  I ask mentally.  It's just basketball.  There are more important things in life.  And it wasn't as if I was that good at it.

"And you had so much talent too …" Akagi trails off.

I shake my head.

Something clasps onto my hand, and I stare down, beaming inside at the feeling of Sakuragi's touch once again.

He looks at me.  'Don't be afraid,' his deep brown eyes seem to read.  'it's all right.'

He turns back to Miyagi, Mitsui, Ayako, Kogure, and Akagi, now all lost in thought.

"Ayako-san," he interrupts everyone's thoughts.  "how about you?  What have you been doing all this while?"

Thankyou, Sakuragi.  I grasp his hand tighter.

He turns to me again hastily, a brief smile flashing across his face.

Ayako remains silent for a while, composes herself then clears her throat.

"I worked for a while as a manageress," she explains.  "of celebrities, I mean.  But I stopped working when I married Ryota."

She beams now, casting a sideward glance at Miyagi, who is beaming as well.

"Ano …" Sakuragi nods.  "where's your fan?"

Akagi and Kogure both raise their eyebrows before beginning to chuckle in unison.

Ayako grins and winks.  

"I didn't know you would miss it, Sakuragi Hanamichi." she laughs.  "Didn't bring it.  I kept it though, at home."

"Trust you to bring it up again," Mitsui jokes.  "baka."

Sakuragi leaps up.

"Teme!!" he yells, hand extended to mess up Mitsui's carefully styled hair.  "Take that!"

"Oi!!" Mitsui fumes.  "Watch the hair!!"

I burst out laughing.

Miyagi smiles.

"You're laughing, Rukawa," I hear him say.  "that's a good thing."

I smile in response.

"So how did you and Ayako-sempai get together?" I ask out of curiosity.

He raises his hand to scratch his head, a mannerism that reminds me so much of the ambitious, mischievous, underestimated Miyagi I knew 10 years ago.

"I was turned down multiple times by her," he begins, looking sideways at Ayako with a knowing grin.  

Ayako only laughs quietly, clasping her son's hand.

"But there was this one time that brought us together."

He begins reminiscing amongst the backdrop of Akagi and Kogure's usual subdued conversation and Sakuragi's playful arguing with Mitsui.

"A new girl transferred to our class," Miyagi tells me.  "her name was … I can't really remember …"

"Chie." Ayako reminds him.  "Her name was Chie."

Miyagi looks surprised.

"You remember, Ayako?" he teases.  "You remember, koi?"

Ayako shakes her head in mild embarrassment and nudges Miyagi.

"Dakara," she answers in feigned irritation.  "of course I remember."

Miyagi grins but continues all the same.

"Anyway, that Chie had a thing for me, you know.  What with me and my irresistible charm …" 

He gesticulates for dramatic effect.

"Oh please…" Ayako rolls her eyes.  

"All right, all right," he surrenders to Ayako.  "anyway, she tried to ask me out.

"Of course I refused, what with my undying loyalty to Aya-chan…"

Ayako crouches down with a smile and begins fiddling with Kyoichi's buttons in a very motherly manner, though very obviously still listening.

"But Ayako hadn't heard about me refusing – in fact, she even thought I said yes, didn't you, koi?" 

He pats Ayako tauntingly, who gives a stubborn snort.

"She came to me, angry and all," Miyagi chuckles, a distant look now forming on his face.  "I remember she demanded an explanation, and then tears started running down her face …

"And that was when I knew that we were in love with each other …"

"Ahem!" Ayako coughs.  "That's enough, thankyou very much!"

She turns to me, laughing with raised eyebrows.

"He's always going on about that …" she moans sarcastically.  "I mean – it was just once-"

"But that once got us stuck together forever, Aya-chan!" Miyagi persists.

Ayako's expression softens.  

"It did, didn't it?" she smiles thoughtfully, then leans against Miyagi.

"We got married soon after university." Miyagi concludes.  "Yup - I stuck by her all through uni.  I decided that the only place I wanted to be was near her."

I watch as Ayako reaches out for Miyagi's hand and squeezes it.  

It must be nice to end up with the person you love, just like that.  It must be very nice.  

I smile at Miyagi and Ayako's love story, then avert my gaze to Sakuragi, who is now throwing his head back in laughter at something that Mitsui said.

Love is like that.  No matter how much you go through, it's all the same, just as long as you can be with the one that you love – nothing matters but that.

"How about you, Rukawa?" Miyagi's voice throws me out of my thoughts.  "You've heard our love story, how about yours?"

"I still remember the way Haruko went after you then," Ayako chuckles in seemingly nostalgic amusement.  "ne… where is Haruko anyway?"

"Sumimasen – we're late!"

I turn towards the entrance automatically.

In walks a black-haired man with a small moustache, accompanied by a chestnut-haired woman with her hair tied back in a tight bun.

"Gomen nasai, minna!" the couple bows apologetically.

"Haruko, what took you so long?" Akagi approaches the woman with a frown.

"Youhei's car broke down," she explains.

"Gomen, oniisan!" the man bows once again, this time to Akagi.

Oh, I think.  Mito Youhei, equipped with a moustache now.  And Haruko too.

Sakuragi moves towards Youhei and slings an arm casually around his shoulder.

"Youhei, what do ya know," he points to Miyagi and Ayako.  "Ryocchin and Ayako-san got together, got married and had a kid," he points to Akagi and Kogure.  "Megane-kun's written 2 books, Gori's a judge – as you would probably know, since he's your brother-in-law to be and all, and Micchy's the lead singer of the rock band Atarashii …"

He looks and me and smiles, not mentioning one more word.

"Ahh…" Youhei replies, an amazed grin on his face.  "sugoi … this puts us to shame, ne, Hanamichi?"

Sakuragi laughs and scratches his head in hesitation.

"Say, what have you two been up to then?" Mitsui asks eagerly.

"Hanamichi and I work as clerks at the same advertising firm." Youhei says.

"Minimum wage," Sakuragi grunts.

"And Haruko?" Ayako adds, gesturing in the direction of the quiet young woman.

"I studied music in university," she smiles shyly.  "but I never really found any way to use it.  Maa, Youhei and I …"

"They're getting married soon!" Sakuragi chirps, pulling Youhei and Haruko closer.

The couple laugh, not minding in the least bit.

Miyagi and Ayako grin.

"This is Kyoichi, Haruko," Ayako introduces.  "our son." 

Haruko's eyes widen in surprise.

"You mean Ayako-sempai and Miyagi-sempai-"

"Yup." Kogure chuckles with a nod.  

"Hontou?" she gushes. "That's great!"

"So Mito-san and Haruko-san got together," Kogure comments, adjusting his glasses.  "Miyagi and Ayako got together, how about the rest of you?  Akagi?  Rukawa? Mitsui? Sakuragi?"

Mitsui shakes his head.

"Had too many relationships with shallow fangirls who never understood a thing," Mitsui complains.  "I like being a bachelor, thankyou very much."

Everyone chuckles at Mitsui's egoistic excuse.

"Akagi?"

"Still waiting for the right woman to come along," Akagi admits.  "shikashi … never been a winner in this area.  Oh well … I have other things to worry about …"

"Sakuragi?"

I watch as he hesitates, then looks me straight in the eye as if asking me, 'What do I say next?'

A thought strikes me: Is he ashamed … of us?

And then I stare at the next messages that appear in his eyes: 'Do you want me to tell them?  Is that okay with you?  Are you okay … with us?'

Kogure seems to sense the uneasiness and decides to move on.

"Personally, I haven't been able to find anyone myself, so there's no need to be ashamed at all." 

He turns to me with an easygoing smile.

"Rukawa?"

Sakuragi still has his gaze fixed on me.

I move through the crowd, over to him, and take his hand in mine.

"My love life …" I say.  "… is right here."

He looks at me, shock screaming out in his eyes.

'You're not scared?  You don't mind?'

I shake my head, reading his thoughts.

And then, I watch him smile, feeling his fingers locking with mine.

I glance around me at the silent individuals, wide-eyed and unsure of how to react.

Youhei's light-hearted laughter breaks the questioning silence.

"Good on you, Hanamichi," he gives Sakuragi a thumbs up.  "you did it.  You told him, at last."

I look over at Sakuragi, now blushing.

Mitsui and Miyagi blink in unison.

"You …" Mitsui trails off, eyes boggled.

"You two …" Miyagi stops as well.

Ayako and Kogure exchange somewhat knowing glances.

"Ahh…" Ayako soughs.

"Glad to see you two together," Kogure sighs.  "at long last."

"Eh?" Sakuragi thinks out loud.

"We guessed that it would turn out like this," Ayako laughs.  

"The line between love and hate is very thin, ne…" Kogure says.

"And you two kept on challenging it, something was bound to happen." Ayako continues.

I can't help but smile.

Does it matter?  I clasp Sakuragi's hand tighter.

"I think I'll just stay out of this …" Akagi mutters in the background.

"Rukawa-kun, you were always so quiet, because of this …?" Haruko joins in the discussion.  "That must have been torture ne…"

I smile.  

"It was all worthwhile, Haruko-san."

I'm beginning to feel for this girl, especially after what I've been through in love.

I turn to Sakuragi beside me, and once again I find myself falling into the gleaming copper-brown depths of his almond eyes.

You've made my life worthwhile, do'aho, do you know that?

There are so many things I want to say to him, I just don't know where to start.

"Err…" Mitsui snaps his fingers abruptly. "Sorry to interrupt your 'magical moment' there … but umm…"

"Can you get a room?" Miyagi finishes Mitsui's sentence.

Mitsui and Miyagi both burst into laughter, leaving both Sakuragi and I sweatdropping.

"Don't mind them," Ayako frowns in disapproval.  "They'll never change."

I manage a smile.

"It's nothing." I breathe, turning back to Sakuragi.

"It's great, ne … seeing all of these guys again?" I hear Kogure tell Akagi, a profound tone evident in his words.

Akagi nods, folding his arms thoughtfully.

"It's really great," he says.  "really great."

_Notes: *bows over and over again* I'm not sure how OOC I've made these charas.. but sorry if I have.. ^_^" hehe_

_I know that some (more than some) parts are really unconvincing -_-" but never mind… at least I tried *shrugs*_

_And yes, my favourite character in Shohoku (apart from Rukawa that is ^_~) is Miyagi … which is why he spoke so much :P *grins* I tried not to make him OOC… Ayako either … I think they make a really nice couple, ne? ^.^ *smiles*_

_The careers of the charas… I dunno *shrugs* o.O They're probably really crappy choices… gomen if they are ^_^" I'm just not very good at justifying things :P_

_I'm trying very hurriedly to finish these last few chapters ne.. *sighs* .. it's not gonna go as easily as I thought __

_By the way, I forgot to mention this in the last chapter … in case you didn't know, Arashi is a pretty popular Japanese singing group … I haven't really heard any of their songs *scratches head* but I just thought I would throw Arashi in and confuse it with another one of my made up names 'Atarashii' (which means 'new'.. *grins*) just to get Mitsui's annoyed side to show :P So he wouldn't be too OOC.. hehe… ^_~  Do you know how Japanese rockers look?  The bronze-coloured hair that's gelled all spiky and etc … very typical example of Japanese rock lead singers… well if you do, then you'll know what my brief description of Mitsui's all about ^.~ *cackles*_

_Anyways, that's enough of my rambling for now… ^_^_

_Oh and thanks again for the reviews y'all ^.^_


	10. Ten

**Ten**

We walk, side by side, down the empty pathway in search for the main road, through the chilly autumn evening breeze.

"It was a very good idea," I say.  "to arrange this reunion.

"It was really nice to see them again …"

I trail off, a bit worried.

"Why so quiet, Hanamichi?" 

I turn to face him.

He looks up from the ground, hands in pockets, a hesitant look in his eyes.

And then he sniffles, blinks, and starts to shed tears.

I move towards him anxiously, and hold him by the shoulders.

"Hana…?" I whisper, all my fear and worry escaping in the shaking of my voice.  "What's wrong?  Why are you crying?"

He shakes his head and looks away, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

"What's wrong?" I breathe.

Someone please tell me how to make him smile again, because I can't stand to see him cry.

"Tell me, please …" I say, wiping the tears gently from his eyes.

"I'm afraid …" he chokes barely audibly.

Afraid?

His body trembles, and instinctively I take him in my arms.

"Why are you afraid?" I ask him.

I hear him sigh in exasperation, or maybe because he doesn't know where to start.

"Because … I'm not sure how to love someone as much as this …

"And I'm not sure how to accept someone's claim of loving me just as much …"

I remain silent, not sure how to react.

And then I smile, a moved smile straight from the heart.

His eyes widen, and I watch as they begin to light up with something very much like relief.

"You never need to be afraid," I whisper.  "as long as I'm here, you never need to be afraid."

I hold him closer, his head resting gently on my shoulder.

"I love you – that's nothing to be afraid of."

He sniffles again, then leans back and gazes at me.

"Why do you love me, kitsune?" he questions, his voice pleading.

At this moment in time, there are too many answers to that question for me to put into words.

"Because …" I start.  

"…because you're Sakuragi Hanamichi."

A hint of a smile flashes across his face and suddenly, tears continue to run from his eyes.

"Hey," I point out.  "the tensai doesn't cry."

He shakes his head and chokes out a laugh.

"But with you …" I hear him whisper.   "I was never a tensai."

I fall prey to the raw honesty brimming in his eyes and vibrating from his voice.

I find myself lost in him again.

"Promise me that I'll always be your do'aho," he breathes.  "promise me, please?"

Anything you ask me, I think.  Anything you say.

"Promise me that you'll never cry again," I respond, unable to swallow back the tears gathering in my eyes myself.  "because I can't last a day without your smile."

He merely gazes at me, and in his eyes, I see the answer.  In his eyes, I see everything.  In his eyes, I see my world.

All I want to do is tell him how much I love him, how much I've always loved him.  But somehow, I can't bring myself to speak.

A sakura blossom falls onto my face then drifts away, averting my gaze to the sudden shower of sakura blossoms above us, forming bundles of pink clusters floating in the wind.

"Look, Hana."  I say, pointing in the direction of the flowing flowers.  

He lets out a loud sigh just like a child.

"Kirei ne…" he exclaims in astonishment.  "they're beautiful …"

I watch his every movement, utterly intoxicated.

"They're beautiful because of you …" I say under my breath.

He doesn't hear me, but what does it matter?  

We sit here in silence, without the need for words, watching the dancing clusters of sakura twirling in the wind.

I sit by the window, still trying to rub the sleepiness out of my eyes.

What woke me up? I wonder cluelessly.  It isn't like me to wake up this early for no reason.

There's this tingling feeling in my heart.  A tingling feeling that leaves a kind of bitter sweetness lingering in every part of my body.

It was last night. I smile to myself.

And then a thought strikes me:  Real living begins now.

Somehow I have faith in life again.  All this struggling for all this time … was truly worthwhile.

I blink, half expecting something.  Even the cynical chiding in my head has disappeared.  I blink again in surprise.  

Sakuragi is really magic, I think.  He's really magic.

A desperate urge to see him sweeps over me, but I slump when I realize I don't know where to find him.

I slap myself mentally.  How stupid.  I never asked for his address.

I find myself letting out worried sighs.  

Will I see him again?

I don't know what's worrying me so much.  I shouldn't be worrying so much, should I?

The shrill, sudden ring of the doorbell jerks me back into reality.  

I trudge over to answer the door, still half stuck in thoughts and dreams.

I open the door without looking at the person behind it.

"What do you-"

Before I can even catch a glimpse of the visitor, he rushes past me and into the room, searching the surroundings for something.

I turn around to face him, aggravated and alarmed, only to be met with the realization that …

… it's Sakuragi.

At the spur of the moment, all the emotions within me clash and I stand, motionless and emotionless.

"Ah!" Sakuragi punches the sky as he drags my suitcase out from behind the bed.

I watch in silence as Sakuragi starts randomly throwing my belongings inside the suitcase with as much haste as possible.

I blink.

"W-What …" I clear my throat.  "what are you doing?"

He doesn't acknowledge me.

"Hana?" I press on.

"Shh!!" he interjects, turning to me with a mysterious grin.  "You'll find out soon enough!!"

I move towards him, still in a daze.

"Where's your passport??" he asks hurriedly.  

Before I can answer he springs towards the desk, grabbing my passport and documents and stuffing them into his jacket pocket.

He holds the suitcase in one hand and clasps my hand with his other.

"Let's go!!" 

And with that, he breaks into a run and pulls me out through the door, somehow swinging the door shut behind us.

"You have a car?" 

I watch him throw the suitcase into the backseat and get seated next to me, pressing the gear down and veering forward.

He shakes his head.

"Iie," he says.  "it's Youhei's.  But he said he would pick it up later, so it's okay."

I scratch my head and brush my hair out of my eyes, still utterly clueless.

"Just where are we going, Hanamichi?" I insist.  "What is this about?"

"Just trust the tensai, ne?" is his answer.

The forces of gravity push my head back onto the seat with more force than expected.

I glimpse at Sakuragi and out the windows at the all-too-quick flashes of trees outside.

"Err… Hana, could you slow down?" I ask nervously, feeling slightly nauseous and fearing the loss of my new, blissful life.

"Trust me, okay?" he responds, his tone thankfully reassuring.

"Do'aho." I mumble.

I do trust you, I think.  I do trust you, do'aho.

I follow suit as he climbs out of the car and walks before me.

I glance at our surroundings uneasily.  

Is this what I think it is?  A cemetery?

I keep silent.  How are you supposed to act in cemeteries anyway?

Sakuragi stops before a headstone, smiles absently, and kneels before it.

I stop and stand beside him.

"Otosan," Sakuragi greets with a distant smile.  "o-genki desu ka?"

His father.  I never knew his father was deceased.

"I've come to say goodbye," he says, his eyes downcast.  "and to introduce you to someone."

He gestures towards me.

"This is Rukawa Kaede." he announces.

I bow in respect and watch as Sakuragi strokes his fingers across the headstone gently, his eyes darkening with emotion.

"He loves me, otosan," he whispers shakily.  "isn't that great?

"I've found someone that I love who loves me back … isn't that wonderful?"

He laughs and I lay a hand on his shoulder, kneeling beside him.

Sincerity and deep emotion hangs in the air as he gazes at me, eyes quivering with a weary sadness that I recognize.  He glances back at the headstone and smiles.

"You'll understand, right, otosan?  I know you'll understand."

He leans forward and gives the headstone a long hug, as if it were really his father, alive and present, sitting right there before him.

"I'll be gone for a while," he says.  "but I'll come back to see you – I promise."

I can hear the swallowed back tears in Sakuragi's erratic breathing as he stands up, brushes the dust off his trousers and smiles one last time.

"Ja matta!" he waves cheerfully, blinking multiple times, obviously fighting back the tears welling up in his eyes.  "I'll see you soon, otosan.  I'll see you soon."

He turns away from his father's headstone, taking my hand in his and beginning to walk in the other direction.

I pull back.  A surprised expression replaces Sakuragi's distant one.

I turn back to the headstone, bowing with all the energy and sincerity I have.

"Sakuragi-sama," I say loudly.  "I promise you that I'll take care of your son, and I promise you that he'll be all right – I promise you will every fibre of my being.

"And I love your son – I love him with all my heart - please rest assured at that.

"Sayonara."

I say a quick prayer and stand up again, to be met with a gaze of utmost bewilderment and gratitude.

He smiles, a solitary tear falling from his eye.

"Thankyou." he whispers.  "Thankyou, Kaede."

I only advance towards him and intertwine my fingers in his.

"Let's go." he says, heading back to the car.

I still don't know where we're going.

I open my mouth to ask the question, but I decide that it doesn't matter anymore.  As long as I'm with him, wherever we go, whatever we do – it's all of little importance.

It must be nice to be close to your family.  I glance at Sakuragi, silently lost in thought.  He must have been very close to his father.  It must have been hell for him when he died.

"It was my fault he died." Sakuragi breaks the silence, as if reading my mind.

"Death is no one's fault-" I persist.

"It was my fault." he sighs heavily, avoiding my gaze.  "If only I hadn't gotten into so many fights – especially that fight that day, if only I hadn't always gone and gotten myself into so much unnecessary trouble … then I would have got there in time, then I would have gotten him to the hospital in time …"

I frown at his logic.

"Do you believe in fate, Hanamichi?" I ask him.

He sighs again, though this time in mild confusion.

"Fate?" he repeats questioningly.

"Yes, fate."

He doesn't answer.

"Well, I do.  Your father was fated to die that day …you couldn't have done anything about it.  It was fated.

"So it's not your fault.  It wasn't anyone's fault.  It was fated.

"Remember that."

I stare at his trembling fingers.

"It was fated, just as you and I were fated to be together." I say, reaching out to hold his fingers still.

He looks at me, and then smiles the most serious and profound smile I have ever seen.

He doesn't speak.  But it's as if I already know what he wants to say.

And now I know.  I know that nothing matters, just as long as he's here with me.  I know that this really is fate.  I know that this is our fate – to be together, just like this.  I know now.

What could be closer to heaven than simply being with the person you love, sensing their presence near you, listening to the sound of their breathing, drowning in their eyes and falling into their smile … nothing could be closer to heaven than this.

Love is all we need.  People would argue to that, I know.  But when it comes down to it, that's the real truth – all we need is to love and be loved.  That's all we need.

It doesn't matter where we're going.  It doesn't matter where we've gone.  All that matters is that we're together, that we love each other.

That's all that matters.

_Notes: I decided that I should divide this chapter from the next, simply to make them more even in length :P_

_It's almost finished *phew* I actually think I might finish this in time *grins* ^__^_

_No, seriously, all you need is love… what could be more wonderful than being with the person you love?  Nothing *looks dreamy* hehee.. I hope I've actually made people *feel* with this fic… that's my only wish…_

_You guys all want happy endings, yeah? ^_^ So do I… Someone suggested I make it sad, but I decided no *shakes head* I think love should conquer all ^.^ *punches the sky* haha… _

_*sheepish* Someone actually predicted my ending you know … *sighs*** **That's actually a really bad sign, but I'll just ignore it ^_^" *giggles* _

_Is this fic too sappy? -_-" It probably is… *sighs* I hope the next fic I write turns into something more angsty than sappy :P If I do find time to write a next fic, that is… *worried* …_

_By the way, I'm not trying to offend people by making Hanamichi so damn weak -_-" I didn't mean it.. *raises hands in a gesture of surrender* Gomen to all Sakuragi-seme fans.. ^_^" *sheepish* _


	11. Eleven

**Eleven**

"Nani??" I practically scream, unable to contain the panic within me.  "W-What are we doing here … at the a-airport??!"

Sakuragi ignores my shocked persistence and runs to the backseat, grabs the suitcase – my suitcase - and latches onto my hand once again, pulling me towards a nearby elevator without a backward glance.

"Hanamichi!!" I shriek, only seriously thinking about the possibilities of what his plans are now.  "What's going on??"

Sakuragi makes sure the doors of the elevator are shut before he turns to me, a grin on his face.

"You're going back to America." he states matter-of-factly.

Wait a minute.  I?  Just me?

Sakuragi's reaction tells me that my fear shows very obviously on my face.

"Baka kitsune!" he chides.  "What are you thinking of?"

I blink, still not sure of what to think.

He's not planning on leaving me, is he?

"I'm taking you there!" he rolls his eyes.  "I'm going with you!"

I unconsciously heave a huge sigh of relief.

"Baka." Sakuragi scolds, though smiling with an air of sweetness building up around him.

"Why?" I think out loud.

He frowns.

"What do you mean 'why'?"

"Why did you do it behind my back?" I mumble, my words not coming out as I intended them to.  "I mean - how did you do it?"

Sakuragi blinks in disbelief.

"Teme kitsune!!" he shouts out.  "You ungrateful fox!! I'm doing this for you – all for you! And you're blaming me for it! Teme!!"

I hesitate as I watch him pout.

"I'm sorry," I immediately apologize.  "I didn't mean it that way."

I smile apologetically, grasping his hand tighter.

I realize that the holding of hands has become something entirely different with us.  Something with a much deeper meaning.

The childish anger in his eyes subsides and softens.

"Okay," I hear him say.  "fine.  I called your uncle.  He arranged it.  He's waiting for you over there."

He stops and thinks for a while.

"Actually," he corrects.  "he's waiting for us.  Both of us."

He did all this – for me?  All for me?

I envelope him in an embrace, my fingers trailing down his back.

"Kitsune?" Sakuragi stutters.  "Are you okay?"

"Why did you do this … just for me?" I ask, my voice shaking, my body refusing to let go.

I listen to his soothing laughter.

"You didn't think I would let you give up on basketball, did you?" he breathes gently.  "I won't let you give up on that.  It was always your dream.  Always your talent.

"Besides, basketball is a very special thing for us.

"Ano … I found you through basketball, kitsune."

To feel loved like this by him … makes the pain of my past seem like nothing but a distant delusion.

How long has it been?  It doesn't matter.  I just want to hold onto him like this forever …

"Err…kitsune?" Sakuragi sounds embarrassed.

"Hn?"

"We're here.  We can walk out now …"

I frown in annoyance.

"What?"

I only remember that we're in an elevator when my vision meets with the awed stares and disgusted glares penetrating through my skin from outside the open doors.

I release my hold on Sakuragi and brush my hand through my hair, then decide that I simply couldn't care less about what people think of me.

I won't let that get in the way of my happiness.  Of our happiness.

I reach out for Sakuragi's hand once again and pull him out through the crowd and into the busy bustling of the airport.

I open my eyes and let out a tired yawn.

I've always hated airplanes.  Such unnatural, uncomfortable things.  I almost groan in aggravation and I shuffle about in my seat uneasily.

But then I catch sight of sleeping Sakuragi beside me, lost in his dreams.

I can't help but smile.  All the discomfort and complaints disappear without a trace in my mind.

He looks like an angel.  His closed, matted eyelashes casting small shadows over the tops of his cheeks, his mouth hanging slightly open so that I can hear the steady, almost hypnotic rhythm of his breathing.  Random strands of copper red hair sprawled over his forehead, just like the way it used to.  His skin so smooth it almost glows, his mild scent drifting across my nose … even angels in heaven couldn't possibly be this beautiful.

I can't fight the irresistible urge to stroke the side of his cheek gently with my palm.

He senses my touch and rolls further over on his side, slowly opening his misty eyes.

"Hi," he whispers when his gaze falls onto me.

I can only manage a silent smile, completely captivated by the mesmerizing sight of him awakening from a dream here, right next to me.

"Are we there yet?" he yawns sleepily.

I shake my head.  

"Nope," I answer, brushing the strands of hair away from his eyes.  "go back to sleep, Hana."

He nods absently, still half trapped in dreams, then closes his eyes again in silence.

I watch and listen to him breathing without one more word.

It's true what some people say.  If you love someone too much, you do lose yourself.  If you hate someone too much, your heart does break easier.

All of a sudden, I don't know what I can say to him.

All I want to do at this moment in time is tell him how much I love him, how much I've always loved him, how much I always will love him.

But somehow, I can't bring myself to speak.  Somehow, I don't know where to start.

It's true.  If you love someone too much, you do lose yourself.  

I watch him smiling in his sleep.  

I love you, Hana.  I love you.  

It doesn't matter what people might say, what people are bound to say.  Just believe that I love you, and nothing else matters.  We love each other, and that's all that matters.

I don't know how to make you understand this.  To make you understand how much I love you, how much I need you, how much you complete my life, how much you are my life.  I don't know where to start.  The words just won't come out right.

I look around me, grab a piece of paper slipped into the seat pocket in front of me, take out the pen from my pocket, and begin to write.

_Hana, my do'aho:_

_I've never been any good with speech, so I decided to write this in a letter._

_There are so many things I want to say to you.  But every time I try to say them to you, I end up getting lost in the crystal colours of your eyes, in the spellbinding scent of your body, in the miracle-working magic of your smile.  And even now, while you're right beside me, lost in your dreams, I find myself unable to take my eyes off you.  There are so many things I need to tell you._

_I love you.  I never knew that love existed before I met you.  I never knew that it was possible to feel so much emotion, so much pain, for anyone, until you made an entrance into my life.  I never knew that life had meaning, until you gave it to me.  You brought meaning to my life.  You brought me emotion, you brought me pain … but most of all, you brought me love.  _

_I disregarded the existence of all humankind before I met you.  And then you came into my life.  You with the fiery hair and the fiery attitude, you with the honesty that was sometimes aggravating, but always reassuring, you who restored my faith in mankind again.  You who showed me that not all people are incurable liars.  _

_Would you laugh if I told you that all those fights we had, all the fights I started, were pleasures to me?  Would you laugh if I told you I did it on purpose, I picked fights on purpose just because that was the only way I could get close to you, the only way I could get you to touch me?  Would you laugh if I told you that I was already going crazy for you then?_

_I hated you.  I hated you for putting me through such pain, such torture, such longing.  I hated you for all this.  I didn't understand it at all.  I was scared, scared because I was losing myself in you, because I thought it was wrong to yearn for you, because I thought I knew I could never have you.  And so I tried to shrug it off, I dismissed it as nothing more than a phase. I left for America in an attempt to try and forget you.  _

_I regret making that choice more than ever.  _

_Deep inside I knew that we had something.  There were times when you looked at me and I truly believed I saw something other than hatred and anger flickering in your eyes.  I tried to ignore these times.  That cost me half of my life._

_I gave up on basketball because it hurt.  It literally hurt, it tore my heart apart.  Whenever I tried to attend a training session I would look at a basketball and immediately be reminded of the way you grinned when you made a shot, the way you could work rare miracles and stun everyone within seconds … the way you took my breath away.  And no one understood why I gave up.  I didn't bother explaining.  I knew no one would understand._

_Believe me when I say the only way I got through the past 10 years was by hanging onto the hope that you were waiting for me, just as you had promised that day when I left Japan.  Believe me when I say that you were the only thing I thought of, the only thing I lived for, for this whole time - for my whole life, too.  Believe me when I say that my life only started the day I met you, that I've lived my whole life just to love you. Believe me when I say that I love you, that I've always loved you, that I always will love you.  _

_Believe me when I say that you'll always be my do'aho, always._

_I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone or anything, more than I ever dreamed was possible._

_I can't believe it took me the experience of being without you to make me realize that I need you. _

_That I'm nothing without you._

_That I love you.  That I was put on this earth to love you._

_And I want you to know that.  I want you to know just how much I love you._

_Even if the seas pour into the sky, if the ground cracks into nothingness, if everything that we call the universe ceases to exist … no matter what happens, I'll always be loving you, I'll always be here to hold you … to hold you as my do'aho._

_Now I know with more certainty than ever that it was never wrong to love you, that it was always my fate to love you, just like this, forever._

_I love you.  Always know that._

_Kitsune._

I fold the piece of paper carefully and lean over towards Sakuragi, placing it gently into his shirt pocket.

I hear an abrupt creasing sound and look around me, trying to find the source of this cacophony.

Something wrinkles in my pocket.  I reach into it slowly, a crumpled piece of paper proving to be the source of the creasing sounds.  I unfold it, frowning in curiosity at the slanted writing beaming up to me.

_Kaede, my kitsune:_

_Every time I try to say this to you, a smile breaks out on my face and I can't bring myself to speak.  So I decided to write this in a letter._

_Please don't laugh at me and dismiss this letter as mush.  Because every word I've written here is truth.  No matter how mushy it is, no matter how embarrassing this might be, I have to tell you this.  _

_I love you.  I only realized what love really was once I met you.  I always thought that the extent to pain from love was the pain brought by my 50 rejections in middle school.  I was terribly wrong.  Terribly wrong._

_You took my breath away.  The way your hair fell over your eyes, the way your sapphire eyes stared straight into me, the way time stood still whenever a basketball fell into your hands … everything about you took my breath away.  But I didn't want to feel this way for you. I couldn't be gay, I was straight!  I couldn't possibly be gay. So I decided to convince myself to hate you._

_I hated you.  I hated you because I couldn't stop thinking about you.  I hated you because you kept on turning away from me, because you were something I knew I couldn't and wasn't supposed to have.  I hated you because you made me feel so ashamed of myself, so ashamed of being who I was.  I hated you because whenever I wasn't with you, I found myself questioning who I was.  But the main reason why I hated you was because I knew I didn't hate you.  I hated you because I loved you.  Because I loved you and it hurt to love you._

_I denied it.  I kept denying it.  I vented my frustration and shame on you by lunging at you time after time.  And I hated myself even more for that.  Believe it or not – I stayed awake for all nights after we fought because I was worried sick that I had hurt you.  I could never sleep ever since you came into my life.  All I could think of was when I would see you again._

_I denied it.  I refused to admit it.  I refused to admit that I was … falling helplessly under your spell._

_And I let you go away.  That was the biggest mistake of my life.  I didn't hold you back when you decided to leave for America.  _

_I thought that I could forget you.  I was wrong._

_Every time after basketball practice I cried.  I doubt people knew what I was going through, because I went to all extreme measures to keep the truth hidden from the world.  But it hurt.  It hurt like hell.  I felt like I was dying bit by bit, with every day that passed by without you._

_The only person that knew what I was going through for you was Youhei.  He told me to go and look for you.  But I refused again._

_I was ashamed.  I was hopelessly ashamed._

_And that cost me half my life._

_Somewhere deep inside my heart I knew that we had something.  I fuelled myself on memories of when you held me close, for reasons completely unknown to me.  Often I thought that they were merely figments of my imagination, naïve clips of my dreams.  But in those times, I honestly believed that you felt the same way about me.  And I hung onto this hope that you felt the same way about me for 10 years, this hope being the only reason why I stayed alive.  I thought I was going crazy._

_Would you laugh if I told you that I waited for you all along?  That I gave up on everything and anything and didn't care that my life was falling to shreds, insistent on waiting for you … knowing that I had promised you and myself?  Youhei told me that I was being stupid.  And I knew I was.  But I kept waiting for you.  I waited for 10 years.  Now when I look back on the past, even I find that unbelievable._

_I can't believe it took me the experience of losing you for me to realize that I love you.  That I need you._

_That I'm nothing without you._

_Without you, I never knew who I was.  With you, I transformed into none other than your do'aho, nothing more, nothing less, and I never minded being that, even if my actions insisted otherwise.  The only person I ever truly was – wasn't a tensai, wasn't Sakuragi Hanamichi, but merely do'aho, your do'aho._

_I want you to know that.  I want you to know that I love you so much that I don't mind who I am anymore._

_Remember when you asked me if I believed in fate?_

_Well, now I do.  I believe, I know for a fact, that this is fate – us, together as one – this is fate.  Just looking at you looking at me, feeling your presence next to me … there's no other place that I would rather be.  I know that I've been living my whole life just to be with you.  I know that this is fate._

_I love you.  I need you to know that I love you, that I'll always love you, that I'll always be your do'aho – nothing more, nothing less.  _

_I love you.  No matter what happens, I'll always love you._

_Always know that no matter what becomes of us, no matter what may happen to us, I'll always be yours – yours and yours only._

_I love you.  Always know that._

_Do'aho._

**End**

Notes: *sniff sniff*  I'll have you know that I finished this fic on the night before the first day of school after 2 months…so the ending might be a bit abrupt/ sudden/ unsatisfactory …?? O.O Anyway… I'm listening to the radio… and while I was writing Sakuragi's letter (racking my brains for ideas) this really really nice song that I love sooo much started playing… leaving me on the verge of tears ^_^" It's a Japanese song that never gets played much … I don't know the group's or song's name in Japanese… so anyway … o_o okay these notes are getting irrelevant ^_^" hehehe

I'm glad I finished this fic ^.^ *sighs* I promised a happy ending, so there! I decided that since it's been told in Rukawa's POV for 11 chapters… I should give some insight into Sakuragi's thinking for a while ^_^ I hope it was okay though…

For all the people who have read all my fics (-_-" only two.. heh) can you leave a review and tell me which one you like more – The Last Face I Want To See or Nothing Without You – because I really want to know that *claps* ^_^ *giggles*

Maybe I'm not that satisfied with finishing this fic because I know that I should have spent longer on it -_-" But at least I finished it.. ^_^ kekeke…

Okay, this is gonna be my last fic for ages to come *sighs* But anyway…

I enjoyed writing this fic a lot ^_^ 

Thanks for the reviews everyone, I really really really really really really really really (okay I think you get the idea ^_^") appreciate it…reviews are really a great encouragement to a writer like me…

Hope you liked the fic… and all the best to all y'all fic writers out there! 

Till next time then! ^_^

~Lanie~

2/9/2002__


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